


Five Nights at Achievement Hunter

by vivaciousWordsmith



Series: Various Ghosts in a Lot of Machines [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Animatronics, Body Horror, Gen, Ghosts?, Horror, Loosely based on FNAF, Mystery, Robots, Spooky, fnaf au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12388110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivaciousWordsmith/pseuds/vivaciousWordsmith
Summary: Twenty years ago, the Achievement Hunter Arcade and Pizzeria was THE place to be for kids of all ages. However, after a series of incidents culminating in the recall of one of the most popular animatronics, their star began to fade, and now the place sits on the brink of obscurity. One more disappearance, and the old place will go belly up.Jeremy is hard up for cash, so when he sees an ad for the very place he used to love as a kid, he's over the moon, and hey, it'll keep him off the streets, right? Sure, it sounds boring as hell, but the worst that could possibly happen during the night shift is accidentally dozing off, right?Right?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've literally been toying with this idea for years, but I never wrote it down until now. Hopefully it's as good here as it was in my head.
> 
> Hope you enjoy. :)

It began, as many stories do, with a stormy afternoon. Rain lashed the windshields of the many cars gridlocked in traffic, while thunder rumbled overhead. After a good half hour of crawling through the flooding highway, one tiny pea-green Rabbit peeled away from the rest of the throng and headed down the Burnet Street exit ramp. Its occupant glanced down at the phone resting in the passenger seat, and returned to squinting through the windshield. Through waves of water and squeaky wipers, he finally saw a hint of green neon shimmering in the distance. As he drew nearer, it solidified into a familiar scrawling text and logo.

_Achievement Hunter Arcade and Pizzeria._

Even after all these years, the sight made Jeremy’s heart leap in his throat. Then he shook himself and reached into his pocket. The little piece of newspaper had been crushed after hours and hours of being read and reread and reread, not to mention the hours spent in his pocket. He pulled at the worn edges and unfolded it once more.

_Help wanted. Family pizzeria looking for security guard to work the night shift. 12 am to 6 am. Monitor cameras, ensure safety of both equipment and animatronic characters. Prior experience not required. Not responsible for injury/dismemberment. $120/week. To apply, call 1-800-ACHIEVE or ask for Trevor at the Burnet location._

_‘You’re not here to reminisce, Dooley,’_ he told himself, _‘You’re here to get a job. Now don’t fuck it up.’_

Jeremy shoved the paper back in his pocket and pulled his umbrella out of the backseat. He spent a moment glaring at the rain, shut his eyes, and popped the door open. In the twenty seconds it took him to get to the front doors, he was already soaked to the bone and shivering. Not the best way to start an interview. He grimaced down at his suit and squeezed the cuffs and sleeves. When he thought he looked a tiny bit more presentable, he steeled himself and pushed the door open.

A wave of noise slammed into his eardrums and almost immediately culminated in a headache. A dozen different game cabinets blared their start music, the DDR machine looped the same song incessantly, and some shitty pop song blared over the ancient speakers. Jeremy wove through the cabinets, horribly aware of the puddles he left in his wake, and was almost knocked over by a herd of small children making a beeline for the DDR machine. He winced and rubbed his shoulder.

_‘Okay, where’s Trevor’s office? He’s gotta be around here somewhere…’_

Jeremy glanced around the arcade floor, and couldn’t help but linger on the main stage. The black velvet curtains had several patches in them now, and looked much more threadbare than he remembered, but otherwise they were unchanged from the curtains in his memory. The stage itself was dull and lifeless, and a glance at the clock told him it would be another thirty minutes before the crew performed. He was sorely tempted to wait and see if the animatronics were still any good, but that would make him fifteen minutes late for his interview, which truly was the _best_ impression to make on a prospective employer.

Finally, Jeremy wrenched his eyes away from the stage and found the door marked ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’. He nodded to himself and made a beeline for it. Once he stepped into the aging hallway and shut the door behind him, the noise of the main arcade room stopped entirely. In the distance he heard the faint sound of a clock tick-tick-ticking, and the slow _squeeeaaaak_ of a chair leaning back. He swallowed and walked down to the first door on his left. His shoes squeaked on the tile with every step.

Suddenly, the door in question flung itself open, and a rather disheveled head poked out of it.

“Hey! Are you here for the night guard position?” he asked.

Jeremy blinked. “Uh, yeah, I’m here for the interview-”

“Great! Awesome! You’re hired!”

Jeremy’s mouth fell open. “But, I, uh, the interview! Shouldn’t you-”

“Can you hold a flashlight?”

“Obviously, but-”

“Can you use a computer?”

“Sure, but that’s not-”

“Are you afraid of inflicting or receiving bodily harm?”

“Uh…I mean, it would depend on the situation, but-”

“There. That was your interview. You’re hired.” He stepped fully into the hallway and held out a hand. “I’m Trevor Collins, the manager. And you are?”

Jeremy thought of and aborted twenty different responses and questions, and in the end, simply held out a hand. “Yeah, um, I am the, uh, I’m Jeremy. Jeremy Dooley. I guess I’m the new night guard.”

“You _sure_ are, Jeremy. Now, let’s give you the grand tour.” Trevor got behind Jeremy and directed him towards the end of the hallway. “First, and most importantly, and _only,_ _your_ office is down here, at the end of the hall. It’s…a little cozy, but it works well enough.”

They stopped beside a gaping, door-shaped black hole. Trevor directed Jeremy into it and flicked a switch on the wall. A light hummed and flickered to life overhead, and what it illuminated was about as far from ‘okay’ as Jeremy could imagine. Cobwebs decorated every corner, and a half-inch thick layer of dust coated the surface of the desk, as well as the ancient beige desktop sitting upon it. A horde of withered children’s drawings decorated half of one wall, while a decrepit poster took up the other half. One little folding chair sat in the middle of the room.

“Like I said, not much, but it gets the job done.” Trevor ran a finger across the top of the monitor and grimaced at the amount of dust on his index finger.

Jeremy bit back a remark on how ‘not much’ it actually was, and instead went to examine the poster. He had to wipe a good deal of the dust off it, but eventually he exposed the depicted figures. Once he did, he stepped back again and examined them.

God, it had been a literal _decade,_ but he still remembered all their names and faces perfectly. Under their proud name and motto stood the animatronics everyone came to know and love. Geoff stood in the middle, one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around his microphone. Jack stood on his left. Most of the left side of his body was obscured by Geoff, but Jeremy could see his right arm, and the piece of drippy pizza he held in his right hand. For a moment, he was surprised to see Michael standing on Geoff’s right, trademark beanie and scowl in place, arms folded over his chest. After a moment or two of staring, he remembered that the old stage roster had been abruptly changed, and Michael was moved from the Lads’ Corner to front and center stage.

To this day, Jeremy swore he’d looked unhappy ever since.

“Man, whatever happened to Ryan? Wasn’t he the most popular animatronic at this place? Why’d they get rid of him?”

Trevor coughed into his fist and shifted in place. “That’s, uh, a bit of a no-no subject, if you know what I mean.” He frowned up at the poster and then seemed to remember why they were there. “Anyway, this is your office, like I said, and you’ll be here from 12 to 6. From here,” he tapped the monitor, “you’ll watch the cameras and make sure nothing happens.”

Jeremy waited for him to continue. When Trevor raised his eyebrows, he asked, “Is…is that really it? Do I not, like, wander around and make sure-”

“No!” Trevor visibly swallowed and said, “No, you’ll stay in here all night. It’s the 21st goddamn century, Jeremy, there’s no need to…to _walk_ around anymore. Jeez.”

Jeremy nodded once and looked down at the keyboard attached to the monitor. It consisted of twelve buttons, all of which had numbers on them. He glanced up at Trevor and frowned.

“So, uh, are… _were_ there any other applicants?”

Trevor’s hands immediately dipped into his pockets. “Um….no. You’re the first and only one. Um. Since we, uh, since we put the ad up.” He resolutely stared into Jeremy’s eyes, and Jeremy immediately felt a shiver run down his back. “So, like I said, that’s about it for your job. Super simple. Boring, actually. Any other questions?”

“Yeah, like, where the hell is the door?” Jeremy gestured at the gaping doorway. “I’m not sure I _want_ to have to stare at an empty hallway during my entire shift.”

“They’re, uh, fairly new. Just installed. Special hydraulic emergency doors. You activate ‘em with this button right here.” Trevor tapped a large red button set into the doorframe. “They’re _just_ in case of emergency, okay? Don’t need you sucking up the power. We’re deep enough in the hole as it is.”

The question Jeremy had just thought of died in the face of this information. “Is…is it really that bad?”

Some of Trevor’s tension left him, and without it, he suddenly looked vulnerable and scared, like a boy trapped in a man’s body. “I…yeah. Yeah, it’s really that bad. Since…that thing I told you I can’t talk about…and several other…incidents…we’ve practically been _hemorrhaging_ money. Corporate’s almost never gotten off our backs about that. We’ve already had to sell a bunch of our old cabinets just to stay in the black. And, at the end of the day…we just aren’t…nobody cares anymore. The animatronic arcade pizzeria thing died out a long time ago. I mean, _maybe_ some locations can make it work, but AH…” Trevor stared down at his shoes. “With the track record we’ve had, I’d be surprised if this old place can make it another year.”

“Oh.” Jeremy looked up at the poster again. The faces smiling back down at him stirred something wonderfully nostalgic in his chest, like seeing an old friend for the first time in decades. “I had no idea. Man, that sucks, I _loved_ this place when I was a kid.”

“Yeah,” said Trevor, “me, too.”

They looked up at the poster. Besides the dust, Jeremy spotted yellowy-brown mold marks and tiny tears all over its surface, and it had warped significantly, twisting away from the tarnished thumbtacks pinning it to the wall. Most of the colors had muted with time and exposure, to the point where Geoff’s blue eyes were almost gray. If he craned his head just enough, the happy grins looked pasted on and fake.

Trevor finally broke the moment and said, “Okay, well, back to business. If, uh, you have no more questions, and you’re okay with your pay grade and hours, we’ll get you started on Monday at 12 am sharp. How about you run down everything I just told you, and then I’ll let you get about your day?”

“Um…do I get a uniform?”

“Oh, shit, yeah, I forgot to get it back from the dry cleaner’s.” Trevor smacked his palm against his forehead. “I’ll get it this afternoon, and you can pick it up tomorrow. Sound good?”

Jeremy glanced around again. Honestly, this was about as far from ‘acceptable job’ as it could get, even if it _was_ in the arcade from his childhood, but his situation had gotten dire enough that he could literally no longer afford to be picky. If he managed to get another job during the day, he might just be able to keep his apartment. And his car. And maybe everything else. He’d just suffer the shitty job for a few months until he got a break, and then he’d laugh about it over beers later on down the line. Perfect.

So he looked at Trevor and said, “So…I just stay in here, watch the cameras, and make sure everything’s okay. Is that it?”

Trevor grinned and nodded. “Yep! That’s it! Seriously, it’s _really_ boring. Nobody’s stolen a cabinet in a while, they never even bothered to _try_ and steal any of the boys, and it’s not like we keep cash on hand anymore. Easiest money you’ll ever make in your life.” Trevor moved back outside and jerked his thumb down the hallway. “If you’ll follow me back to my office, I’ll get your contracts and stuff printed out.”

“Sounds great, man.” Inwardly, Jeremy sighed and made a mental note to bring his DS or a book or something. He’d definitely had worse than boring. Boring, at least, was easy, and relatively painless. He’d breeze through the job, wear out his nostalgia, and save his broke ass from the homeless shelter all in one fell swoop. This would be just fine, right?

Right?

God this was going to suck.


	2. Night 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy starts his new job.

Sunday night rolled around all too quickly, and after a nap that mostly consisted of Jeremy staring at the ceiling, it was eleven fifteen, and time for him to go to work. He groaned, rolled out of bed and stumbled over to his closet. His new-to-him uniform hung in front of all his other clothes. True to his word, Trevor had it ready for him when he came for it, sheepishly admitting it might be a little big on him. And, indeed, when Jeremy put it on, the pants were much too long and sagged in the waist, and the shirt bagged in the torso but stretched almost to breaking in the shoulders and arms. He frowned at the faded brown stain splotched across the front. What, had the last guy spilled ketchup on himself or something? Jeremy shook his head and tucked the shirt down into his pants. Hopefully his belt would help improve the look somewhat. Next he stuck his feet in his one pair of leather shoes, put the baseball cap on his head, brushed the lint off the ‘Achievement Hunter Security’ patch, did up his tie, and pinned the badge to his chest. He had to admit, he didn’t look all that bad once the look came together. He stood a little straighter and puffed his chest out a little bit.

_‘Okay, enough preening. Time to fucking do this.’_

Thankfully, at this time of night, the only people out on the highway were pub-crawlers and those who enjoyed the nightlife, and even they were few and far between. Jeremy made it to the arcade around eleven forty-five, and spent a few minutes psyching himself up. The building was completely dark, with not a guiding light in sight. He swallowed and glanced down at the envelope in his passenger seat. It only contained the key to the building’s back door. He looked at his phone. There was only one message reading ‘good luck!’ from his friend Matt. Eventually, he ran out of things to distract himself with, and stepped out of his car.

The creak of the door opening echoed through the hall. Jeremy reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and switched on its flashlight. Unfortunately, the tiny LED barely pierced the darkness three feet in front of him, let alone the void at the end of the hall. He reached out, found the wall and inched through the hallway toward his office. It took quite a bit of time to reach the room at the pace he was going, and by the time he sat down in his little folding chair, the clock hit midnight and his shift had officially begun.

Jeremy had only just switched on the monitor when a phone rang not two feet from his head. He shrieked and jumped in place, head whipping around wildly. A blocky beige phone, previously unnoticed, was built into the wall, and when he looked down, he saw a clunky old-fashioned answering machine sitting on a little shelf beneath the desk. A click sounded, and the tape began to spin.

_“Hello? Uh…hello?”_ Jeremy blinked and almost said ‘hello’ back. _“Okay, now that’s out of the way, if you’re really stupid enough to work at this fuckin’ place, you’d better listen to me.”_ The voice cleared its throat and said, _“First, I have to read this legal bullshit, so bear with me. Uh… ‘Welcome to the Achievement Hunter team. We hope you’ll enjoy your time here with us and become part of the family. We’re not responsible for any on site injuries, and in the event damage or death does occur, we promise to file a missing person report as soon as possible, and will recoup any lost wages to your next of kin.’ Sounds bad, yeah, but it’s easy once you get the hang of it.”_

“What the fuck is with this company and fucking dismemberment?” Jeremy asked the open air.

_“-okay, okay, so, these fucking animatronics, right? They’re, uh, you’ll want to watch those. I don’t know the details, but they’re allowed to, uh, fucking, uh, roam around and shit. At least, at night. Something about parts locking up or whatever. I’ve been told they used to walk around during the day, too, but then something, uh, something happened a couple years back, and they’re not allowed to do that anymore. Not that it matters, but whatever. What **does** matter, though, is what they’ll do if they find you.”_

Something unpleasant sank into Jeremy’s stomach. He turned to the monitor and brought up the central stage camera. All three animatronics stood in their rightful spots, blank eyes fixed ahead, posed in mid-performance. He narrowed his eyes and switched to the Lads’ Corner camera. It was emptier than he remembered, and the curtains were drawn over the tiny stage. A large OUT OF ORDER sign hung over the faded green star-print, and from the looks of things, it had been there for quite some time. Jeremy let out a breath and tuned back into the recording.

_“-yeah, if they find you, you’re, uh, you’re gonna have a bad time, to put it fucking lightly. They’re…weird when it comes to the staff. And adults…in general. I have no fucking clue why, but my best guess is…well…that they think you’re supposed to be one of them, or something. So…they…uh…Christ, they, uh, they’ll drag you to Parts and Services, and…well…they’ll stuff you into one of the extra suits. And you’ll die. Horribly. But hey, it’s your first day, right, so it’ll be a fucking cakewalk. Only thing to look out for is the power. Place doesn’t run on the main grid at night, supposedly because the owners want to save money or some shit like that. So, you’re on the backup generator, and boy is that shit unreliable. If you run out of power, God fucking save your ass, ‘cause you’ll be boned seven ways from Sunday. If you got all that, you should be fine, all right? If you’re still there, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Good night.”_

The tape disconnected with a click, and Jeremy was alone once again. He flipped back to the main stage camera and scanned over the stage. Several bursts of static washed over the feed, but after a few seconds the picture finally cleared up, and Jeremy could see the stage. A squeak threatened to break out of his throat and into the open air.

Michael was _gone._ Just… _gone._ Geoff and Jack stood alone on the stage, with only the empty spot next to them to indicate that anything had ever been there in the first place. Static crackled over the feed, and in the distance, something landed on the ground with a _thud._ Jeremy threw himself back and slammed his fists down on the door buttons. The motors overhead whirred into life, and both doors slammed down into place.

Ignoring the many, many warnings on his screen about power consumption, Jeremy tabbed through the various camera feeds and scanned them as thoroughly as he could in the five seconds he spent on each. It took him several cycles through all the feeds before Jeremy finally found what he was looking for.

Michael now stood in the middle of the main arcade room. Most of his body stood behind a large cabinet, and his right arm was obscured by shadows. If Jeremy remembered correctly, Michael was much taller than the console, so he must be crouching or hunching in order to hide. His beanie had slipped a bit to reveal several wiry curls, and his polymer eyelids hooded his plastic eyes.

_‘He’s coming…but I don’t think I’m in danger yet. At least I hope not.’_

Jeremy reached out, hesitated, then opened both doors. The warnings ceased, but Jeremy had already wasted twenty-five percent of the backup generator’s power. He swore and toggled through the feeds. Sweat prickled on his forehead and trailed down to the collar of his shirt. Okay, Geoff and Jack were still on stage, Michael lurked in the arcade, and the Lads’ Corner still looked desolate. He took a deep breath and let himself relax a touch.

Then he noticed that the green-starred curtain had parted the slightest bit, and a glowing green eye peeked from the shadows. At the same time, the laugh echoed through the empty building, closer now, louder now. He changed back to the arcade camera. Michael was gone again. He changed back to the main stage camera. Geoff now stood by himself.

His watch beeped to mark the hour. Jeremy glanced down at it. Three in the morning. Halfway there. Halfway done. Just three more hours, and then he could leave.

He checked the Lads’ Corner. The eye stared back at him. A thin hand grasped the curtain’s edge as if to throw it wide but had been stopped mid-act. Footsteps sounded in the hall. He switched to the first West Hall cam. It was pitch black, but occasionally the light from the security camera would cast a dim red glow over the scene as it turned in place. Two pinpricks of white light glared at him from the darkness. When the camera panned back over the hallway, the light glinted off the plasticky streaks on a pair of large tennis shoes.

That…that was close. Closer than Jeremy would like. He hit the light switch and watched it flicker over the tiles and walls. Nothing yet, though the light didn’t reach very far, and there was still a bubble of darkness outside the little light halo. He looked back at the camera. The figure had gone. A nervous twitching started up in his fingertips, and it took him a few minutes to tap through the cameras.

A distant clang-clang caught his attention. It sounded almost like metal on tile, so Jeremy switched to the kitchen camera. Bursts of static swallowed the feed in the seconds afterwards.

“C’mon, _c’mon, c’mon,_ you fucker,” said Jeremy. He slapped the side of the monitor and pounded at the keys like that would somehow help.

It didn’t. Static swallowed the feed entirely, and an error message flashed across the screen. _Picture Unavailable. Sound Only._ Jeremy leaned forward and put his ear right up next to the built-in speakers. Through the static, he heard another clang _,_ a soft whirr, and slow, wet smacking. Another _clang._ More smacking. The tinkly smash of glass hitting the floor. Footsteps echoed through the kitchen. Then nothing.

Jeremy had been so engrossed in the sounds he had neglected to check the other cameras. Loud, brutish laughter sounded in the hallway, closer than it had been before. Less like an echo and more like…right next to him. Something else sounded right afterward. Ragged, heavy, horrid panting.

He reached out and switched on the West hall light.

Michael stood in the doorway. His toes were right up against the jamb, his hand raised and curled in a fist, smile stretched impossibly wide over his face. The fingers of his other hand jerked and twitched. That same movement echoed in his neck, in his head, and in his lips. Like a junkie coming down from a weeks-long bender.

Jeremy’s mouth opened, and a tiny squeak eked out from his throat. He flailed against the buttons for a few moments before eventually managing to slam his palm down on the door’s button. Several inches of heavy steel between him and the animatronic helped ease some of the tension from his shoulders. At least, until it juddered and vibrated from blow after blow. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed back into the wall.

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

When the door did not yield, the blows stopped. A moment later, one last thud sounded, and a horrible screeching shout rang out through the halls.

“YOU CAN’T HIDE IN THERE FOREVER, FUCKER!”

Jeremy held his breath, but nothing happened. When he found the strength to go through the cameras again, Michael skulked in the arcade again. His smile had gone now; his lips pulled back into a snarl. Satisfied that, at the very least, he was gone, Jeremy opened the door again.

His power had now dipped below 40%, and it was barely four-thirty. He’d really have to moderate that if he wanted to survive. Jeremy huffed, wiped sweat off his brow, and pulled the cameras up again. Michael still stood in the arcade room. Geoff stood on the main stage, dead to the world. Jack now stood in the East Hallway. He beamed up at the camera, his hand paused mid-wave. The curtain in the Lads’ Corner had parted to the point where the chain had fallen to the ground, and the animatronic within stood in ghostly red light.

Poor Gavin had really not suffered the years after Michael’s transfer to the main stage well. Large rips yawned across his synthetic skin. Red and blue wires glimmered through the tears, patterned much like veins and arteries in a human body. Through the holes in his jeans, Jeremy could just make out his endoskeleton. Gavin’s skin looked much paler than it had in Jeremy’s childhood, though he supposed it _could_ be a trick of the light. His face looked more or less untouched, but his eyes…Jeremy couldn’t remember his eyes looking so… _bright._ Light leaked out from around the edges of the plastic whites, made the green irises positively glow in comparison. It kind of hurt to look at for too long.

“Great,” he mumbled, “ _another_ thing to have to watch.”

A low laugh rumbled from his right. He shrieked and slammed the right door shut without even looking. His power trickled down to 20%. Past 20%. Someone knocked on the door. The power dipped below 15%. It was five am.

_‘One more hour. I just need to hold on for one more hour. C’mon, Jeremy, you can fucking do it!’_

He fought the urge to toggle through all the cameras and instead limited himself to only a select few. Geoff remained on stage. Jack had moved back into the arcade. Michael stood at the end of the hall. Gavin had emerged from his curtain completely and stood in the leftmost corner of the camera’s vision. His head tilted back in a laugh, and his eyes fixated on something far out of Jeremy’s view.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ ” He glanced down at his wristwatch. How was it only five oh five?! He glanced back at his power. Barely 11% left. He shut off the monitor and switched on both lights. Nothing stood at either window or doorway. Yet. Jeremy breathed in and squeezed his eyes shut.

Curiosity overpowered him, and he checked the cameras again. Gavin had gone. The ‘out of order’ sign lay across the podium. Jeremy reached out to tab through the cameras and just managed to catch a glimpse of the animatronic sprinting through the hallway. Jeremy gibbered and slammed his hand down on the door button. The moment it hit the ground, something slammed into it and fell to the ground with a _crash!_

“Aww, no fair!”

No sooner had the British animatronic cried out than his footsteps rattled down the hallway, and when Jeremy risked a glimpse at the Lads’ Corner camera, the curtains were drawn again, and the chain wound around the whole lot once more. He let out a sigh and leaned back.

Then the power cut with a loud _snap._

Jeremy jumped at the sudden loss of light. Judging from the melancholy _brrrrmp_ fading in the background, the backup generator had reached its limit and shut off for the night. His breath hitched and sped up, rasping painfully in and out of his throat. He pushed his chair back as far as he could and held the keyboard up in front of his chest. The fingers of his other hand curled around his phone.

Footsteps echoed in the hallways. A laugh vibrated through the walls. Then the tinkly sounds of a music box began to play. Soft at first, but growing louder by the second.

_Dun dun dun dun dun-dun -dun, dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun…_

It ground to a halt, scratched several times, and started up again. A little more warped now, a little louder now, a little closer now. Lights winked on in the darkness. One brown pair, then two brown pairs, a green pair and one blue pair. Whirrs and clanks marched down the hallway. The music sped up and grew louder still, to the point where the high notes screeched and crackled.

Jeremy shut his eyes and buried his face in his knees.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep!_

He squinted one eye open and looked down at his watch. It flashed the time up at him over and over again.

Six am.

His shift was over.

Jeremy rocketed out of his chair and immediately dropped his phone on the ground. He scrabbled to pick it up and switched the flashlight on. The hallways were completely empty. A loud _boom_ echoed through the building, a crackling snapped overhead, and all the lights came on one by one. He winced and squinted through the red blotches burned into his eyes and still saw nothing. It was just the hall he’d walked with Trevor when he first got the job.

His heart pounded in his throat, and he took the opportunity to spin around and run out to the parking lot. He fumbled his keys for a moment, but eventually he got the door open, jumped inside, and sped away from the arcade.


	3. Minigame #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude.

_Monday. Seven am._

_Michael was jolted out of his idle state by a loud, droning moan. He glanced over at the other two animatronics on stage, but neither stirred. It sounded again, louder now, infected with a faint staticky hiss. Michael rolled his shoulders, stepped off stage, and started walking._

_The moment he pushed the curtain open, he saw something disappear down the hallway._

_“This way,” the static whispered._

_He followed it into the hallway. A shadow vanished into the Lads’ Corner._

_“This way.”_

_He stepped into the Lads’ Corner. Even though it had been neglected for quite some time, Michael knew this room well. The little tables were still there, though they were now bare and covered in dust. Most of the drawings had gone, and those that were left had yellowed and warped. The stage’s green-starred curtain had a chain wrapped around it. A sign in red letters proclaimed it ‘OUT OF ORDER.’_

_Several of the old Play Pals songs ran through his head upon seeing his old stage, and Michael hummed a few of the bars. The notes rang clear in the empty corner, waiting for an accompanying part that never came._

_Then the curtain shifted._

_Michael stepped forward and reached out._

_A hand pushed the fabric aside. Naked, metallic fingers gleamed against the velvet. Two voids stared at him from the darkness._

_He stared back. That was not right. He knew him, but he didn’t know him. Didn’t he?_

_Static hissed, crackled, solidified into a low, husky laugh._

_“Do you remember me?”_

_……….._


	4. Night 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite his reservations, Jeremy returns for another night at his not-so-boring new job.

Jeremy didn’t sleep at all after he got back from work. Every time he closed his eyes, those soulless plastic eyes stared back at him. He twitched every time he heard footsteps and kept expecting a banging at his door. He only peeped into the hallway once or twice, and quickly ducked back into his room.

He couldn’t go back.

There was no way he was going back to that…murder building. Even if he was getting a thousand dollars an hour, Jeremy wouldn’t go back. Okay, maybe he would for a thousand dollars, but for an amount that made minimum wage turn its nose up disdainfully at him? Hell no. Jeremy rolled over and pressed his face into his pillow. He needed a new job, _now_.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t just switch that easily. Two other companies hadn’t even called him back, and another had interviewed him, and _then_ hadn’t called him back. Plus he still had bills to pay, and his rent had gone up last month, and he needed to buy groceries, and-

Jeremy sighed and pushed himself out of bed.

He had to go back.

Fuck his fucking life.

* * *

 

This time, Jeremy drove a lot more slowly down the highway. He eyed the clock over the radio and did his best to put his foot down. The clock already showed eleven forty-five. Would it even matter if he showed up late, or not at all? Nobody would notice, right? Then again, if he showed up late, there would be a chance that those bots would already be roaming the halls, and wouldn’t take too kindly to him bumbling around the halls…

Why couldn’t that Target have called him back about the cashier job?

Once again, the lights were out when he arrived, and like before, Jeremy pulled out his phone and shone his flashlight down the halls. Nothing.

Yet.

With a sigh, he walked into his office, sat down, and switched on his monitor. Minutes later, his watch struck twelve. The phone rang, and it only startled Jeremy a little this time.

_“Hey! How’s it going there? You, uh, were stupid enough to come back for another night, so yeah, guess I’ll keep helping you out. Seriously, though, you’re fucking retarded.”_

“Language,” said Jeremy.

_“First thing’s first, check your monitor. Fuckers are gonna move faster the longer you’re here. My best guess is you’re now their new game, and now you’re Level 2 or some shit, I don’t know. So…yeah. Monitor. Check it.”_

Jeremy pulled up the main stage camera and groaned. Michael had already gone.

_“Okay, what else…right. Okay, uh, so, uh, Geoff doesn’t exactly…move all that much. I think he just directs the others. Or watches, like a fucking creep. Tell you what, though, he fucking takes **off** when the lights go down. So, like I said before, don’t take your fucking eyes off the fucking power, or you’ll fucking regret it.”_

Jeremy thought about eyes moving toward him in the darkness and shivered. He glanced over the cameras and down at the power. He was already at 91%, how was this possible?!

_“Uh…is there anything else…um…right, right. So, you’ve probably noticed by now that there are a couple blind spots where the cameras can’t see shit. They’re right outside the doors. Don’t know why, but fuck, I’m not being paid enough to care about that. Just flip the lights on every once in a while, and everything should be fine. Also, check on the asshole in the Lads’ Corner from time to time. If the cameras are off him for long enough, he’ll start acting up more and more. Dickhead doesn’t like being watched, or just gets more confident, I guess. Anyway, I shouldn’t keep you. Goodnight.”_

The tape clicked and the phone hung up. Jeremy groaned and rubbed his eyes. Footsteps pattered around in the distance. He looked back at the camera and switched to the Lads’ Corner. The curtain was still closed, and the chain still wound around it. He toggled through the other cameras until he found Michael standing in the West Hall. The animatronic glared up at the camera. A hint of teeth glinted in between his scowling lips. Both hands had clenched into fists, and his shoulders hunched.

That was…fast. That was much too fast.

God, _why_ had he come back?! Moron!

He turned the monitor off and checked both blind spots. Empty. Jeremy wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He switched off the lights and checked the monitor again. Most of the feeds looked normal. Not a robot in sight.

Okay, that was unsettling. Jeremy checked the main stage again. Geoff stood alone. Great. Just perfect. He switched to the arcade and squinted at the image.

Jack stood in there now. His head and shoulders were the only parts of him visible through the jungle of cabinets, and unlike Michael, he made no attempt to hide. He also stared right at the camera. His eyes were unnaturally wide, to the point where Jeremy couldn’t see any hint of eyelid, and his lips curved into the slightest little smile. Static fuzzed across the screen, and Jeremy quickly switched away.

He checked the Lads’ Corner again. He swore to God it hadn’t been that long since he checked it, but already a hand forced the curtain to open and a bright green eye pierced the darkness.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, _shit._ Why are you already out, you fucking asshole?” Jeremy grumbled and stared at the feed. If he kept the camera on him, maybe Gavin would retreat back into his-

“You know, that’s awfully rude.”

Jeremy leaped out of his chair and crashed to the floor. He kicked out and switched on the right door light with his foot. Jack stood at the window. His nose nearly pressed against the glass, and Jeremy almost expected breath to start misting at any second. A wide grin stretched across his cheeks, and his eyes were still so wide. The light flickered out after a few seconds, and Jeremy wasted no time. He yanked himself upright and slammed his palm down on the door switch. It whirred faithfully and slammed shut. He lowered himself back into the chair and turned the light on again. Jack still looked at him through the window.

Jeremy sighed and relaxed his shoulders. Then he heard that sound. Ragged whirring, torn, like breathing. He turned and switched on the left hall light. His heart leaped into his throat and pounded in his mouth. Michael stood in the doorway. The look on his face matched Jack’s. His fists were still clenched, though now they shook and twitched. Jeremy shut that door with a tiny sob.

“Don’t fucking do this to me, don’t fucking do this to me. I can’t fucking handle this.” He briefly switched on the monitor to check his power. Already down to 60%, and it was barely two am. With both doors closed, his power was going down the toilet. He remembered what the phone call had said about Geoff and the power going out. He checked both lights again. Michael’s shadow danced on the hallway wall. Jack watched him from the window. Jeremy let out a groan and put his hands over his eyes.

Eventually, he straightened and checked the cameras. Gavin had emerged from the curtain and headed for the door. Jeremy shut his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. A little red light on the bottom corner cheerfully told him he was wasting a fuckton of power, and with every passing second, another percentage point dropped from the power. He flipped on the West Hall light. Michael had gone. Flipped on the East Hall light. Jack had gone.

He opened Jack’s door, but left the other closed on a hunch. Moments later, something hit the door with a loud clang-thump, and he heard a small ‘oof’. A frantic knocking started up after that, and with each hit another few precious percentage points drained away. His power was already north of thirty points, and growing closer by the second. Finally the British bot let out a muffled swear and moved back down the hallway, and Jeremy opened the door.

It was three thirty am, and he barely had thirty percent left. Jeremy leaned forward and felt his shirt unstick from his chair. He reached out and switched back to the main stage.

Geoff had turned to stare at the camera. His face and pose had not changed, but his eyes bored into the camera and right into Jeremy’s. He switched to the kitchen camera, just so he wouldn’t have to look at him. All he heard was static. Nobody in there, then.

Jeremy switched the monitor off and shut his eyes. A fluorescent buzzing droned overhead, and if he concentrated, he almost thought he could hear the chug-chug of an engine. Someone laughed in the distance, and footsteps tapped down the hall. He opened one eye and checked the lights. Nothing. Theoretically, he was safe.

But he had to know.

Jeremy switched the monitor on and flipped through all the feeds. Geoff had turned away from the camera. Gavin was back in the Lads’ Corner and peeked out from his curtain. Both halls appeared to be empty. Michael lurked in the arcade. Noises now sounded over the kitchen camera’s shitty speakers. He shut it off and let his head rest in his hands.

The power ticked beneath 25%. The clock had just reached four am.

_‘I’m not going to make it.’_

Jeremy tried to shake the thought, but it had already taken root and dropped a stone in his stomach. More beads of sweat popped up all over his body and soaked into his clothing. He had to figure out some way to kill two hours without losing his power, or, at the very least, not losing his power too soon.

There was no fucking way.

He took a deep breath and straightened. Maybe…if he stopped using the camera, checked the right hallway every once in a while, and kept the West Hall door shut…he could have a chance. He could get out, find a new job, and give Trevor a piece of his fucking mind.

Jeremy shut the left door and automatically flipped on the right hall light. Nothing yet. Okay. Okay, he could do this. He slapped his hands together and shook himself. He could do this.

Someone slammed their hands down on the door.

Maybe he could do this.

He flipped on the East Hall light. Jack stared down at him from the window. His arms were folded over his chest.

There was no fucking way he could do this.

He slammed the other door down and heard a disapproving huff. Moments later, Jack had gone. Jeremy checked on his power. Less than 20% already. He couldn’t bear to look at his watch. He opened the other door and did his best to focus on his breathing. He’d been hyperventilating so hard his head hurt. God his head hurt.

A murmuring rose and fell in the background. More footsteps rattled over the tiles. A tinny, high-pitched whine leaked out from some unseen pipe. Jeremy’s power ticked down below 10%. His watch beeped up at him. Five am? Maybe? Could less than ten percent last an hour?

Probably not with the door closed.

Fuck, what would he do? He couldn’t just _sit_ here like a dumbass and let them kill him. He could try to get to his car, perhaps? But it was on the other side of the restaurant, and he’d have to go through all the animatronic heavy areas to get to it. Yeah, that would up his chances from ‘probably dead’ to ‘definitely dead’. He could find somewhere to hide, maybe? There was a storage closet in the West Hall that none of the other animatronics seemed to know about. He could run there when the power cut and hide it out until six.

Okay, so it was a horrible plan, but it was better than nothing. Jeremy curled his hands into fists and watched the last of his power trickle down the drain. Five percent. His breath sped up again. Four percent. Shuffling moved toward him. Three percent. A low rumble chundered slower, slower, slower. Two percent. His heart lurched.

One percent.

Jeremy shot out of his chair the moment the power went out. He stumbled into the West Hall and ran his hands over the wall. _‘Where was it, where was it?’_ A low moan sounded in the distance, followed by more shuffling. He pawed at the wall, and nearly let out a squeak when his fingers stumbled upon grainy wood. It took him several seconds of fumbling to get to the doorknob, but eventually, he got it, ripped the door open and flung himself inside.

The storage closet was pitch black. No matter how much Jeremy squinted, he could make nothing out. He held his hands out in front of him and stepped forward. His foot caught the corner of a box with a loud _thump!_ He stumbled back and sank down into a corner. His breath rasped in and out of his throat, harsh and oh so very loud. He swallowed and rest his chin on his knees.

_‘Just one hour, Jeremy. Just gotta hold on for one more hour. Then I can go home.’_

A loud snarl echoed down the hallway.

“He’s not here!”

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

“That hasn’t ever happened before…”

“Don’t just stand there! Go fucking find him!”

Several sets of feet ran down the hallway, and all went quiet. Jeremy let out a small sigh and hugged his knees even closer to his chest. He just had to hang on a little while longer. Just a little more.

Then a pop rang out from the darkness. Static buzzed, crackled, ground and eventually resolved into the low, off-key notes of a music box.

_Dun dun dun dun dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun …_

Jeremy’s eyes grew wide.

The music squealed to a stop, morphed back into static, and broke off bit by bit into a low, rattling laugh. Something hit the ground with a metallic _clunk_. A box slipped down near Jeremy’s toes.

Another snap.

Then a new voice hummed from the darkness.

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Another thump.

“I hear you breathing.”

Something unfolded in the darkness. More static hissed.

“They forgot me. Did you?”

Another laugh ripped through the tiny room. Deep, menacing, and closer now.

“Don’t worry. You’re safe here. I’ll take care of you.”

Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut and covered his mouth with both hands.

His hat fell off his head and landed on his feet. A small rush of air brushed over the back of his neck, reeking of rust and oil. A small, husking laugh ground out right over his head.

“Well…well…seems we’re out of time.” A sigh. More oil-thick air washed over Jeremy’s neck. “See you tomorrow...Jeremy.”

_Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep!_

Jeremy lifted his head and glanced down. His watch flashed six am cheerfully up at him. With a low mechanical grumble, the main generator kicked back in, and the one tiny light in the storage closet flickered alight. Boxes were stacked from floor to ceiling. Several of them had sagged and split open with age and neglect, spilling rotten party hats and tablecloths over the floor. He stood up and took his phone out of his pocket. The flashlight flickered over the back wall, barely visible behind old posters and splotchy boxes. One box had fallen at the base of the rest, but other than that, nothing had been disturbed.

Aside from Jeremy, nobody was in the room.

He reached behind him and threw the door open. It clattered against the wall and bounced back with a little puff of plaster. Jeremy ignored the damage and rushed out of the pizzeria. He collapsed to his knees right beside his car, took a deep breath, and vomited all over the pavement. By the time his stomach was empty, his throat had been seared raw, tears and snot ran down his face, and his entire body felt cold.

It took him a long time to muster the strength to stand. When he finally did, he pulled his car door open and slumped into the driver’s seat. With what little strength he had left, he switched on his car and slowly drove back home.


	5. Minigame #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another interlude.

_Tuesday. Twelve thirty pm._

_There were only two kids in the arcade. Jack watched them walk from machine to machine, glancing over the faded titles and CRT screens. Music played over the speakers, all the cabinets blared and flashed, and behind the main stage, the inner workings of the building groaned and chundered._

_Jack glanced over at the other two animatronics. They both stared at the curtain. Frozen in mid-performance. Waiting for one o’clock when they would do their set again._

_In the distance, something crashed to the ground. Jack turned his head. Another crash sounded. Jack stepped off the stage and walked into the hallway._

_The sounds were coming from the kitchen. Strange. The cook had taken his break some time ago. Had he come back? A louder crash sounded, and Jack kept moving._

_He pushed the door open and leaned down to poke his head inside. Nobody was inside. A few pots and pans lay on the floor. One of them had a dent the size of Jack’s fist in the bottom. He entered and glanced left and right. Light spilled across one of the tables, cast from the open door of the stainless-steel refrigerator._

_Jack moved closer and poked his head inside. Most of the weekend’s leftover pizza was still there. Several crates of soda sat untouched beside the plain boxes._

_Something hit the wall next to Jack and clattered to the ground. It bumped against his foot. He pulled his head out of the fridge and looked down. A silver and red soda can rocked right beside his foot. A great yawning rip had been torn in the aluminum. Brown liquid dribbled off the silvery filaments and down onto the floor. The can’s top and bottom had been bent almost completely in half._

_Jack turned to see where the can had come from. The walk-in freezer was ajar. He moved closer. It pushed open a tiny bit. He moved closer. A flicker of motion passed over the misty window. He reached out and pulled the door all the way open._

_A box skittered down from on high and spilled all over the floor. A burst of static crackled from the shadows. It pitched up and down, grew louder and quieter, until it resolved into a low hum. A spidery hand curled around the wire shelf._

_“I’m still here.”_

_……….._


	6. Night 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy tries to leave his job, but is pressured to stay, at least for the time being. So, he enters his third night none too pleased.

Jeremy spent most of Wednesday in bed. His vomiting bout had greatly weakened him, and besides, he didn’t exactly feel _safe_ anymore. So there he lay, still pale, still trembling, sipping on Gatorade and doing his best to forget the unknown voice in the closet and the sensation of metal on the back of his neck.

It wasn’t working too well at the moment.

Once he felt, well, not _better_ mentally, but much better physically, Jeremy pulled up the AH number on his phone and called Trevor. It rang, and rang, and rang, and eventually clicked over to voicemail.

_“Hello! You’ve called Achievement Hunter Arcade and Pizzeria! We’re busy delivering fun and games to children of all ages, so please leave a message, and we’ll call you back!”_

Jeremy didn’t know if he wanted to throw up again or he had a case of the warm fuzzies. That was _Jack’s_ voice, though there he sounded as lovely and friendly as he had back when Jeremy was a little kid. Like he was about to come out of the phone and give the caller a gigantic hug. Back when Jeremy still went to AH, he would have loved that.

Now, though…

He shook the feeling away and worked on his voicemail. Dozens of insults and tirades wafted through his mind, but he wistfully pushed those away. Finally, he settled on simple and slightly vague message.

“Hey, uh, Trevor? It’s Jeremy. I’m, uh, I’m not sure this whole night guard…thing…is working out. Could you call me back when you get this message? Thanks.”

The message made him feel a little better, so he spent a good chunk of time tidying his apartment and searching for new jobs. Hopefully he could get the fuck out of this mess and get a job flipping burgers somewhere. Sure, it would be shitty, but literally _anything_ would be better compared to murderous robots.

By the time six thirty had rolled around, Trevor had not called back, and Jeremy was still comfortably sitting at zero new job opportunities. He left another message and opened up another Gatorade. He considered applying for more jobs, but nothing else had really jumped out at him, and besides, he was already tired, annoyed, and more than a little tense. He tabbed off his current page and loaded up a new Minecraft world for some stress relief.

Jeremy hadn’t been playing for three minutes when his phone finally rang. He dropped it on the carpet, swore profusely, and fell out of his chair. He then managed to pick up the phone and answer the call with a slightly breathless, “Hello?”

“Hi, Jeremy! It’s Trevor.”

“Trevor! You get my messages?”

“Yes, well, that’s why I’m calling. I’m sorry you’re not happy here, but I’m afraid by the terms of the contract you agreed to when we took you on as night guard, you have to file your two weeks’ notice with us to quit employment, and _then_ you have to sign a whole bunch of NDAs and liability release forms…it’s a whole process, really.”

Jeremy’s hands began to shake. “You’re not fucking _serious_ , are you?”

“Afraid I am. Company policy, you know. Mostly ass covering, but you get the idea. So, you’ll need to turn that shit in if you want to leave. Otherwise, Jeremy, the company is going to sue the pants off you. Just so you’re forewarned. Also, with you being on the nightshift, you’re going to have to come in during regular work hours to turn all that in, so…there’s that.”

Jeremy swallowed and focused on a brown blotch on the wall. _That_ sort of threat was nothing to sneeze at. With the amount of money he had, or more accurately, _didn’t_ have, a lawsuit would fucking _annihilate_ him. He’d never get out of poverty. Hell, he’d be lucky to _only_ be in poverty. Plus, there was still the whole ‘didn’t have a job to fall back on’ problem.

Jeremy shut his eyes and curled up in his chair.

He only had one option. And what a fucking option it was.

“All right, I’ll turn it in tomorrow, and fill out my paperwork, and _then-_ “

“Sorry, no can do, buddy. I’m the only one who’s allowed to process that paperwork, and unfortunately, I’m going to be out of town until Saturday on…a business trip.” Trevor cleared his throat. “You know how it is. The ol’ grind and all.”

“Please tell me you’re not serious.” Trevor didn’t say anything, and Jeremy wanted to puke again. “Oh _god!_ ”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s not so bad! How about this, if you do well this week and decide to stay on, I’ll put in a good word for you. Maybe set you up for a raise, or even a promotion! Higher tiers can have a lot of cool perks!”

“Uh-”

“Well, if that’s all you wanted to ask about, I’m gonna have to let you go. Have to pack. Bye bye!”

“No, hey, Trevor, wait!”

Too late. The call ended with a trilling beep, and Jeremy suspected Trevor wouldn’t pick up if he called again. He groaned and let his face rest on the carpet.

Not only did he have to go back _again,_ but he would have to stay on another three days before he could officially quit, and _then_ stay on another two weeks after that. He knew he had barely survived the first two nights, and if the phone calls were anything to go by, it would only get worse.

He let out a laugh that felt much more like a sob.

“Just survive three more nights, Jeremy,” he said. “How hard could it be, right? You fucking _prick._ ”

He ended up laying face down on his carpet for quite some time after that.

* * *

 

Jeremy somehow scraped himself together and dragged himself into his car. He drove down the long and winding way to work, and arrived a good fifteen minutes before the start of his shift. If he was going to work here, he was going to do his best to be prepared. To that end, he’d brought a hammer, a padlock, four nails, and a simple hasp. The hammer he could use for self-defense, and as for the rest, well…

Before his shift officially started, before he knew the robots would start to come after him, Jeremy walked over to the storage closet, placed the hasp above the doorknob, and nailed it to the door. He then clipped the padlock into it and locked it. The key went into his pocket, and with that, he felt a little better. With five minutes to spare, Jeremy headed back to his office and sat down in his chair.

Shortly after the clock struck twelve, the phone rang. Thankfully, Jeremy was expecting it this time, and only flinched a little bit.

_“Hi, hello. So. Came back for night three, huh? Fucking idiot.”_

“Would you believe me if I said I have no choice?” asked Jeremy.

_“Okay, so maybe ‘idiot’ was a little harsh there. I mean, if you made it this far, you’re smarter than everybody else. **They** didn’t exactly last until night three, if you know what I’m saying.”_

Jeremy nodded and flipped the camera on. Nobody had moved, but considering how fast they’d come after his ass, it could only be a matter of time. Even Gavin’s curtain was closed.

_“That being said, I came up with an idea as to how you could survive. Play dead. They’re not **too** smart, they might just think you’re, like, an empty costume or some shit. But…if they think you’re an endoskeleton normally…and playing dead would make them think you’re an empty costume…never mind. It’s a stupid idea. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. If you’re still here after tonight, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Peace.”_

“That’s it? Really? What about the fucker in the closet? Have any sage advice about that?!” The tape clicked off and Jeremy huffed. “Gonna have to go in blind, then? Great. Just great.”

He looked back down at the monitor. Nobody on the main stage had moved. Gavin’s curtain had parted ever so slightly, but otherwise he hadn’t quite emerged. On the one hand, Jeremy was glad he’d at least have a bit of breathing room, but on the other hand, the lack of activity made a cold finger of dread coil in his stomach. His mind wandered back into the storage closet and relived the hour he’d spent hiding within it. Remembered the sudden burst of static, the erratic laughter, the baritone whisper, and the freezing metal fingers pushing his hat off his head. Who had that been, and would they menace him again tonight?

_‘You’re fine. You locked…whatever it was…in the damn closet. He can’t get you.’_

Jeremy breathed in, breathed out, and cracked his knuckles.

_‘Let’s do this.’_

He checked the main stage again. Michael and Geoff still stood there, but Jack had vanished. Well. That was new. And definitely not new in a good way. Jeremy flipped to the next camera and breathed a sigh of relief. Jack had only just moved into the arcade room. Hopefully he’d hide in there for a while, and Jeremy wouldn’t have to deal with him until later. He switched to the Lads’ Corner. Still no sign of Gavin. Okay, so if he checked back regularly enough, Gavin wouldn’t emerge at all? That was definitely good to keep in mind.

He could do this. He could _do_ this.

Jeremy checked the left hall light. Empty for now. Checked the right hall light. Still clear. It was one thirty in the morning. A faint hope sparked near the base of his heart. This wasn’t so bad. Heck, they’d already been on his ass by this time yesterday; by comparison, this was downright _easy._ He’d watch the cams, listen for their approach, and be back in bed by six thirty. Piece of cake.

At least, that was what he was telling himself.

He flipped up the monitor again. Gavin had already pushed his curtains aside and poked his head out. Jeremy glared at him and gave him the finger.

“Fuck you, asshole. I’m gonna watch you all goddamn night if I have to. You fucking sit your ass down.”

He laughed a bit and imagined Gavin looked offended at that. His eyes were certainly wide enough. If he ignored the grin, it could almost work. Almost.

Checking both the lights revealed nothing, and Jeremy managed an even bigger smile. This was going…pretty damn well so far. Neither of the main animatronics had even come close to his room yet, Gavin was still in his corner, and at two am, he had 80% of his power left. He could handle this. This was easy enough.

A high, squeaky laugh echoed far in the distance.

Jeremy blinked. Okay, _that_ was new. He opened the monitor and checked it again. Gavin hadn’t moved, Michael was still on stage, and Jack had moved from the-

Wait a minute.

He changed back to the main stage and double checked it. Then triple checked it.

Geoff had gone.

Geoff had fucking _gone._

A bubble of panic welled in Jeremy’s throat. His fingers scrabbled over the buttons on the keyboard, flipped through camera after camera, and found nothing. Where had he gone? How could a giant robot covered from head to toe in bright tattoos hide so fucking _effectively?_ He tabbed through them again and leaned forward until his nose squashed against the screen.

It took another tabbing through the feeds for Jeremy to finally see something. In the background of the arcade feed, standing out from the shadows, were two tiny white dots. Jeremy squinted until his eyes hurt, and managed to make out a tattoo covered arm and hand clutching a microphone.

Not as bad as he thought, then. Geoff had just moved into the arcade room. The fact that he had moved at all was a little shocking, especially since the phone dude had said he only moved in the dark. Maybe that was why he was hiding in the shadows like an asshole. Jeremy moved back and wiped the smudge off the screen with his sleeve. This was doable, this was still manageable.

Then he checked on Gavin. The animatronic had vanished.

“God _fucking_ dammit, I just _checked_ on you, you dickhead!” He struck the door button with his fist and tabbed back to watch Gavin run down the hallway. He streaked by the camera, and barely a second later the tell-tale ‘oof’ thumped against the door. A few mechanical whines shrilled out, followed by a few less mechanical whines. Then his footsteps pattered away.

“Yeah, that’s right. Run away, you dick.”

“You know, you’re being _really_ rude tonight.”

Jeremy shrieked and jerked in place. He flailed and hit the light switch. Jack stared down at him again from the window. His eyebrows were raised and his arms folded. Jeremy could swear he heard the _tap-tap-tap_ of a disapproving foot. He only felt a little safer when the door slammed shut between them.

With that done, he opened the door on his left and brought the camera feeds back up. Gavin was back in his corner, though he hadn’t bothered with closing the curtain again. Michael now lurked in the arcade. Jack had gone back into the hall. Geoff was nowhere to be seen. Jeremy tabbed through all the cameras and finally found him in the East Hall. He had ducked into one of the bathrooms and peeped out from its entrance. The camera’s light hit him in such a way that only the lights from his eyes were truly visible. A little close for comfort, but otherwise Jeremy was still okay. He opened the other door and wiped a few drops of sweat off his brow.

Four am had rolled around by now, and he still sat comfortably at 40%. He checked the lights again. Nobody was there yet. Most of the cameras were clear. Geoff still poked his head out of the bathroom. Michael and Jack both stood in their respective halls. Gavin had exited the curtain, but was still in the Lads’ Corner.

He could do this.

Jeremy checked the lights again. Still nothing. He couldn’t help the small shiver that went down his neck and back. Why were they being so… _cautious_? To his knowledge, nothing had changed, save for the lock he himself had placed on the storage room door. The last seven or so times he had checked, it had still been closed. Yet the animatronics stayed further back. Only two encounters tonight…something had definitely changed.

He swallowed and turned his attention back to the monitor. He could worry about that later. Right now, he just needed to make it through this night and get back home. Which required the utmost focus. So…no pondering the animatronic in the closet.

Sure.

Jeremy shook himself and slapped his hands against his thighs. Just two more hours, and he would be home, safe and sound, and one third of the way towards never seeing this place again. He just needed to concentrate. Just needed to hold his shit together for another two hours. The lock would hold.

He just needed. To. Focus.

He checked the Lads’ Corner again, and shut the door when he saw the empty curtain. Moments later, Gavin bounced off the door and hit the ground hard. A sharp hiss cut through the empty air and retreated back down the hallway. Something else pounded at the door a few seconds later, and from the frustrated shout that emanated when it didn’t yield, it was definitely Michael. He snarled and shifted away.

A little livelier, but still, it wasn’t exactly what he expected by now. Heck, this was pretty much par for the course at this point. If there could be a situation where being threatened by creepily lifelike animatronics was called par for the course.

Fuck, he hated this job.

He checked the hall light to see if Michael was still there. Nothing. He opened the door and checked all the cams again. Gavin stood behind his curtain again. Michael had moved into the arcade room. He was pretty sure Jack was in the kitchen. Geoff still stood in the bathroom and stared up at the camera.

Well, Jeremy was still alive, and he had quite a bit of power left. Maybe he was getting the hang of this.

_‘Don’t you fucking start thinking like that! I will never, ever, **ever** get used to this!’_

He shook himself again. Five am. It was five am now. He just needed to get through one more hour, and he could go home.

That same, almost giggly laugh trilled through the halls again. It was a little louder now, and looped several times. Jeremy brought up the camera and tabbed through the feeds again. Geoff had moved from the bathroom, and it took him a good minute to locate him again. He now stood in the East Hallway proper, though most of his body was still obscured by the shadows. His microphone had gone by now, and both fists were tightly clenched.

One more hour.

Jeremy looked through all the feeds again. Nobody had moved. A quick glance down told him he still had a good 25% of his power left, so he shut both doors and leaned back in his chair. He’d just play cool and sit it out for the remainder of the night. Easy peasy.

More slams echoed from his right and left. Several feet padded around in the distance. Another almost childish giggle bounced down the hall. When he flipped on the light, Michael’s shadow danced on the wall behind him.

“Come on out, pussy! We’re not gonna bite!”

“Sure you’re not,” Jeremy said under his breath.

The animatronic slammed his hands down on the door several more times. Then he snarled and stomped back down the hallway. Jeremy let his head rest on the table and watched the power tick away. Hopefully, his shift would be up before the power ran out.

Hopefully.

More stomping. Low, huffing breath-like sounds ghosted from underneath the right door. More laughter, much louder now. The table beneath Jeremy’s fingers vibrated with the giggling. A hand pressed against the glass. Two white lights winked at him from the darkness.

His power ticked below 5%.

“Oh, man.” Jeremy shut his eyes. “This is gonna _suck._ ”

_Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep!_

Six am.

Jeremy lifted his head and let out a breath. Another shift had passed, and he’d come out intact. Both doors slid open, and the lights flickered for a moment while the main generator powered up. All the lights came up. The hallways were empty.

He shot out of his chair and ran toward the door. The front door banged shut behind him, and he only stopped when he reached his car. He sighed in relief and slumped against the driver’s side door. _‘Home never felt so fucking good, man.’_

A soft, metallic tinkling rattled down by his foot. Jeremy’s brow furrowed, and he shifted to look down between his toes.

Something silvery rocked back and forth beneath his car. Jeremy bent down and rolled it over with the tip of his finger. He jerked back hard enough to land flat on his ass. There, crumpled up like a piece of paper, was the hasp. Four bent and chipped nails stuck out like fingers from the creased hasp, and what was left of the lock hung from the mangled D-ring.

Jeremy spun around and looked back at AH. Something darted away from the front door, so quickly he wasn’t able to see what it was. He scrambled to his feet, got the door open, and sped back home as fast as his shitty car could go.


	7. Minigame #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More interlude.

_Wednesday. Three twenty-five am._

_The first tinkly notes of a music box wafted through the air and jolted Gavin out of his rest. He reached out, pushed the curtain aside, and stepped out into the Lads’ Corner. None of the lights were on, and a half-inch of dust covered the aging tables. Old posters of him and Michael peeled off the walls. One of them had fallen to the ground at some point._

_More music rang out, a little louder now. If he wasn’t mistaken, it almost sounded like one of the old Play Pals songs. He poked his head out of the door and listened. The familiar notes drifted down the hall, plaintive and yearning. He hummed along and stepped outside._

_A crackling noise broke through the darkness, and the music grew a little louder and faster. Gavin made his way towards it. Oddly enough, it sounded like it was coming from the security office. He sped up and mumbled his part of the song to himself._

_But as he moved closer, the music cut with a BANG! Gavin slowed down. The dim shape of the West Hall door loomed in front of him. A beam of light spilled from between its jambs, falling over a dark stain spreading over the tile. He tilted his head. The liquid caught the light and flashed scarlet._

_He moved closer._

_A raspy, grinding noise whined and pitched, and the familiar Play Pals song started again, but warped now. It twisted and convulsed until it changed entirely._

_And this song Gavin knew all too well._

Dun dun dun dun dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun, dun-dun-dun…

_He stepped a little closer. A dim shape lay in the doorway, framed by the light. Five red-stained fingers lay across the doorway, tilted up toward the sky, pale as milk. Amidst the music Gavin heard a different noise altogether. Harsh. Ragged. Frantic. The fingers twitched oh so slightly._

_Then a naked endoskeleton foot stepped down and crushed the wrist beneath it. The noise stopped altogether. The new music stopped too, and static churned through the silence. Bit by bit, the animatronic laughed. And laughed. And laughed._

_Gavin glanced up._

_The eyeless face grinned down at him. Its jaw swayed from side to side as it titled to regard him._

_“It’s not enough. It will **never** be enough.”_

_……….._


	8. Night 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The animatronics get more persistent, and Jeremy encounters an "old friend."

For the first time since he had gotten his job, Jeremy booted up his computer and Googled the Achievement Hunter Arcade and Pizzeria. To his surprise, very few results actually came up. An incredibly bland and inoffensive website that looked like it had been dragged out of the early 2000s, several Reddit threads, a handful of old pictures, a few articles, and not much else.

He clicked through the pictures one by one at first. Most of them looked like they’d been scanned in a thousand years ago at someone’s birthday party. Everything looked shiny and new and there were balloons fucking everywhere. All the kids in the pictures had gigantic grins on their faces and clutched AH figurines in their hands. Some of them posed with the animatronics or rode on their shoulders. Oddly enough, the only two robots in those pictures were Michael and Gavin. The latter looked in much better condition then than he did now, and both robots had large, happy grins upon their faces in each and every picture. Jeremy let out a little ‘huh’ and closed the tab.

Next he glanced over all the articles. None of them were particularly informative. One talked about the history of the place in very general terms, one read more or less as an advertisement, but the last’s title caught his interest and held it.

_Twenty Years Later: A Discussion of the Baffling AH Disappearances_

Unfortunately, clicking on the link resulted only in a 404 error. He tried to reload the page, did some troubleshooting, and even resorted to swearing at his computer. No luck. It seemed the page had been nuked.

Finally, after giving up on the article, Jeremy checked out a few of the Reddit threads. Most of them only had one or two comments, but the top thread had several hundred. Its title was _‘AH Conspiracy?’_ Jeremy clicked on this one and read the main post.

_‘There’s something weird going on with that old arcade on Burnet Street. A whole bunch of pictures on Flickr and Google were copyright claimed, and the only articles I can find on them are fluff pieces. I even emailed the company about the animatronic that got discontinued twenty years ago, and I got a cease and desist letter. It’s freaking me out._

_Anyone have anything to contribute?’_

Most of the comments concurred with the poster, and some volunteered their childhood memories of the AH Arcade. Jeremy glanced over these with some interest, but most didn’t address what the poster was asking. There was one, however, that had two golds and fistfuls of upvotes, which Jeremy read with fascination.

_‘Hopefully this won’t be deleted, but I know why they don’t want people talking about AH. About twenty years ago, while I was at a birthday party, my friend’s dad went missing. Nobody really knows what happened to him, but everyone agreed that they never saw him leave the building. It kept happening, too. People would go into AH and never come back out. If I remember correctly, at least five people disappeared. Police searched them a dozen times and never found anything._

_A few weeks later, the discontinued animatronic (Ryan, I think?) attacked someone after one of their shows. I didn’t hear a lot about this, but that was when he was recalled and discontinued due to faults in his AI. What was weird about that was none of the animatronics were really the same after he was gone. They just seemed…colder than usual, if that makes sense. AH lost a lot of business after that._

_Thing is, I don’t think the disappearances ever stopped, and they started hiring night guards like crazy. Either there are twenty people working there, or they’ve been quitting like crazy, because I see their ad in the paper all the time. Like they never pull it or something. Also, I’ve never been able to find anyone who says they’ve worked the night guard shift._

_I know this sounds too crazy to be true, but I swear it is.’_

Jeremy wracked his brain for several minutes, but just couldn’t remember any of that. He had been a little kid when everything had gone down, and aside from the gold-filigreed memories that were quickly losing their veneer, he didn’t recall much. By the time he was seven years old, Ryan was gone and the structure had changed. His family had moved some time after that, so he had missed most of the ensuing scandals. Besides, he was just a dumb kid then, he didn’t care about stupid adult shit.

Still, what little information he had found was enough to give him pause. He knew weird things were going on at the arcade. Hell, being threatened by enormous animatronics had told him that much. But multiple disappearances? Ryan being recalled due to attacking someone? If even half of that story was true, it was a pretty damn good indication that something much darker was going on in the tiny, run-down Achievement Hunter Arcade and Pizzeria.

Jeremy looked down at his phone. It was almost ten pm. His next shift would start in two hours. He could only hope and pray that it went as well as his last shift.

_‘Make it to Friday, Jeremy,’_ he told himself. _‘Just make it to Friday, and you’ll be home free.’_

He sighed and pushed himself out of his chair.

_‘Fuck me.’_

* * *

 

Once again, Jeremy arrived early and took a minute to walk down the West Hall. At first glance, the storage door looked no different than it had last night, but upon closer inspection, he could see two sets of gouges in the doorjamb and the door itself, and what looked like… fucking _claw marks_ scratched around the knob. Jeremy ran his fingers over the grooves. At their deepest they reached the midpoint between the first and second knuckle on his middle finger. He shuddered and hurried back to his office.

Midnight rolled around soon enough, and Jeremy rolled his shoulders, pulled up the monitor, and waited for the night’s message. The phone went off like normal, and Jeremy clicked his tongue while waiting for the message.

_“Sup, man. Day four, huh? Couldn’t keep away?”_ A pause. Loud, metallic pounding popped over the phone and nearly crashed the audio with static. Jeremy jumped and glanced left and right. Neither door was closed, nor were there animatronics there. _“Not like I can say anything. Shoulda left while I had the chance.”_ The same high-pitched laugh sounded, followed by more knocks. _“Listen, can a bro ask a favor? When…when you have time, can you check Parts and Services?”_ A low, shuddery breathing joined the knocking and the cackling. _“I’m hoping there’ll be…something…left of me. When they’re done. Just…you know…check. Always wondered what’s back there, you know? Heh.”_ The music box started up, shorted out, and faded into static. _“Oh, fuck me.”_

A loud mechanical roar emanated from the phone and Jeremy leaped back in his chair. He slammed both hands down on the door buttons and took a few moments to catch his breath. The call cut to static shortly thereafter, and ended seconds after that. He stared at the phone for a few seconds in disbelief.

Sounded like the previous security guard hadn’t managed to escape after all.

If he, the guy who had gotten him through his first few nights, hadn’t made it out, how on Earth could Jeremy ever hope to?

He shook his head and turned his attention back to the monitor. All the animatronics had already left the main stage. Goddammit, he had been so concerned with what was going on with the call he’d forgotten to check on them! He swore and quickly tabbed through the feeds, trying to find all four of them. Michael was already close to the West Hall door, Jack stood in the East Hall, Gavin grinned up at the camera from in between his curtain, and after a lot of searching, Jeremy found two little white pinpricks staring up at the camera from the bathroom.

“Shit. Fuck my stupid ass, why wasn’t I watching you guys?” Jeremy opened the doors for now and checked both lights. Nothing yet. Yet being the key word there. He breathed in, breathed out, and switched to Gavin’s camera. The animatronic hadn’t moved since the last time he had checked. Geoff hadn’t moved either. He settled back and check the lights again. The right was still clear. Michael leered down at him from the left. Jeremy slammed the left door down and checked on Gavin again. Still hadn’t moved.

His heart pounded in his throat. It wasn’t even one am.

Michael slammed into the door over and over, and snarled when it didn’t break down. His stomping could be heard all the way down the hall. Jeremy opened the door and checked the other light. Jack waved back at him. Jeremy slammed the other door closed with a groan. The animatronic stood there for a few moments before plodding back down the hall.

“One second, just give me one fucking second to…fucking… _breathe!_ ” He rubbed sweat off his forehead and shook himself. “Okay, where are you now?”

Michael had moved back into the hall. It sounded like Jack was in the kitchen. Gavin had exited his curtain but was still in the Lads’ Corner. Geoff had left the bathroom. Jeremy tabbed through several cameras, scanning each and every one until he caught a glimpse of tattooed arm in one of the East Hall cams.

More footsteps sounded in the background. A tittering chattered somewhere close by. Metal clanged two or three times. Jeremy checked the Lads’ Corner again and shut the door the moment he realized Gavin wasn’t there. He bounced off the door and scrabbled at it like a dog.

“Jeremy, you prick, let me in!”

Jeremy declined to do so, and the robot retreated back down the hall. He did his best to go back to tracking the other bots and watching the doors, but he couldn’t help the shivers running down his spine, or the unpleasant rolling of his stomach.

How had Gavin, an animatronic kept in the back behind a fucking curtain, learned his name? He couldn’t have seen any of the employment records or anything, and he hadn’t known it before tonight. So how had he learned it just now?! Unless…

A cackling erupted from Jeremy’s right. He jolted out of his train of thought and checked the East Hall light. Nothing. He checked the cams. Michael still stood in the hall. Jack had moved back into the arcade. Gavin was back in his curtain. Geoff now stood in the most extreme corner of the East Hall, right at the point where Jeremy’s blind spot began. He had jammed his face as close to the camera as he could get it, to the point where all Jeremy could clearly see were the white dots at the center of his pupils and his leering grin.

He could not close the door fast enough.

Not seconds later, five fingers trailed over the window and paused at the doorframe. They lifted away, and then four knocks rapped on the door. Jeremy’s power dipped below 50%. He swallowed and checked the other light. Empty. Good. He had enough on his fucking plate as it was.

It took so long…too fucking long for Geoff to leave. Each and every second dragged on for what felt like hours on end while he stood there and knocked on the door. Another little tick of power drained away with every tap of the bot’s knuckles. He didn’t even _want_ to check his watch at this point. When Geoff finally fucked off, Jeremy nearly cried from relief.

Still, it wasn’t looking good. He’d already been attacked four times tonight, with more promising to come quickly. His power sat at an abysmal 42%, and when he finally did bring himself to look at the time, it had only just hit 3 am.

Things were not looking good for Jeremy. Not by a long shot.

He checked both hall lights. No sign of any hostile animatronics. He reached for the monitor, but stopped before he hit any actual buttons. Power was scarce enough as it was, he didn’t need to drain it unnecessarily by toggling through every single goddamn camera seven times. If Jeremy wanted to get through this night, he was going to have to get smart.

As long as he listened, he could catch Michael and Jack at the doors and could cut them off there. Gavin moved fairly slowly as long as he kept an eye on him, and he always came from the left. Geoff…Geoff he hadn’t quite figured out. He would just have to try and watch him on the cams until he got a better strategy.

He shut his eyes and listened. Over the low hum of the backup generator, a different sound sputtered to life. Humming low, squealing high, buzzing somewhere in between. Chugging, chittering, yammering. It drifted closer, grew louder, then faded back into silence.

Static.

Jeremy felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. A waft of air drifted through his little office. Musty, ancient, drenched in the smell of rust and dusty oil.

He let out a tiny squeak.

The static, now close to inaudible, went silent. Jeremy went for the monitor and checked every camera. Nothing out of the norm. All the mobile animatronics had moved back a room, and Gavin’s curtain had closed over him. He swore and checked both lights. Nobody there either.

Then a new sound rang through the restaurant.

Tap. _CLANG._ Tap. _CLANG._ Tap. _CLANG._ Tap. _CLANG._

Jeremy’s heart beat furiously against his collarbone. He reached out and tabbed through all the feeds again. Michael had returned to the main stage. Jack was back in the arcade. Gavin’s curtain was still closed. He couldn’t see Geoff. So what was making that-

Wait.

There was something off about one of the hall feeds. Jeremy tabbed back to the West Hall and scanned over the image again. There! At the very edge of the picture. It looked like…

Oh God.

A shoulder curved out of the very edge of the camera feed. Though hard to make out through the grain and color, he thought he could make out the thin sleeve of a blue t-shirt. The arm coming out of the sleeve, though…it looked… _wrong._ Several powdery strips of flesh hung from the sleeve’s end, wrapped somewhat around the upper arm. Most of it was bare. Naked, skeletal fingers curved into a claw, frizzy wires stuck out of the wrist, forearm and bicep, and rust heavily caked the joints.

Then the feed went down with a loud _pop!_ A bright red _INPUT ERROR_ superimposed itself on the grey static. Jeremy’s fingers fumbled over the buttons, switching from feed to feed to feed. All of them were down. The white noise shifted, bit by bit, until the husky sounds of a laugh filled the little office, growing louder and louder until the speakers popped and crackled.

Jeremy slammed the door closed and panted hard. This was _not_ what he needed right now, goddammit!

Tap _CLANG_ tap _CLANG_ tap _CLANG_ tap _CLANG_ tap _CLANG_.

A wave of static leaked under the door. It pitched and faded, pitched and faded, pitched and faded. Jeremy leaned away and held his forearms over his face. Five fingers tapped on the door one by one and dragged down. The horrible squalling of metal on metal filled the office. The static faded, and the animatronic outside hummed almost pensively.

“You know….what you did last night…that wasn’t very nice.”

The tips of five metal fingers crept onto the window. Their sharp tips glinted wickedly in the light. The index bent back with a rusty squeal and tapped three times on the glass.

“I just want to help you, Jeremy.”

A sudden shower of sparks burst in the hallway like fireworks. Jeremy reeled and scrubbed his eyes furiously. White and red blotches danced over his eyes. When they finally cleared, he finally reached out and hit the light switch. But he stood too close to the door, so his shadow was cast over the wall instead. Light spilled between the gaps in his bare arms, and Jeremy could see one naked endoskeleton leg sticking out of a tattered pantleg.

More static hissed. Then the animatronic let out a horrible, electronic roar. The hand on the glass yanked away, and then the door screeched. Jeremy covered his ears and cringed into his chair while the noise ripped through the quiet restaurant. The scream echoed on and on, unhindered by lungs or breath, and power practically hemorrhaged from his systems.

Then it stopped. Static replaced the screaming, and faded into a chuckle.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll find a way to you eventually.”

With a loud _CLANG,_ the animatronic moved away.

Jeremy slowly uncurled and hit the light switch again. The hallway was empty. He pulled up the cameras. All of them had come back up. Jack had now moved back to the main stage as well, and Gavin’s curtain was still closed. After some more inspection, he found Geoff in the back of the arcade room. He, too, must have moved back, then. Despite his best efforts, he could not find the fifth animatronic anywhere.

It was like he had vanished into thin air.

He even checked on the storage room door. Closed and entirely unremarkable. Jeremy listened, but he couldn’t hear static or clanging or laughing.

Jeremy checked his watch. It was now five in the morning. His power had waned to 15%. The frequent attacks and his panicked flipping through cameras in search of the strange animatronic had drained it almost completely. He would have to survive another hour if he wanted to make it to tomorrow and get the fuck out of this job.

Fuck.

He first considered making a run for his car, but, once again, decided against it. Hiding in the restaurant itself was also out of the question. There were no spot he could think of where none of the five animatronics could find him. That left only one option: stay here and try to hold out until the morning.

Tonight’s phone call came back to him, and his heart sunk in his chest.

Footsteps sounded in the distance. The giggling started up again, much quieter than previously. The others had started moving again, so, at the very least, that other animatronic was probably not around anymore. At least he _hoped_ it wasn’t around. He briefly brought up the camera and glanced over their locations. Geoff now stood in the East Hallway, and it sounded like Jack was right behind him in the kitchen. Michael had moved into the arcade room, and Gavin emerged from his curtain once again. Jeremy shut down the monitor and moved back.

For now, it appeared he was safe. As long as he could keep them at bay, he could make it to six am and go home. God, he could barely wait.

He checked the lights. Nobody there yet. Jeremy took a breath and focused on slowing his heartbeat. He checked on Gavin. Still in his curtain. Geoff hadn’t moved. He checked the lights. Michael stood at the door. He shut it and checked the cameras again, doing his best to ignore the animatronic’s furious pounding. Neither moved. His power dropped below 10%. As soon as Michael had left, he opened the door and checked the opposite door. Jack now stood there. He shut it and checked the camera again. It seemed that frequently checking on both Gavin and Geoff kept them from moving. That was good to know.

By doing this, he managed to ward off the animatronics until the very last of his power drained away. The power cut, and Jeremy’s office went dark. Jeremy sat back in his chair and, despite his pounding heart, managed to slow his breathing and covered his nose and mouth with his hand. Just a few more minutes and he could make it. Just a few more minutes and he could go home. Maybe if he sat still, they might leave him alone for just long enough.

Unlike before, the glowing sets of animatronic eyes did not approach him. However, the music box ground to life and drifted closer to him. The soft _tink-tink_ of metal on metal sounded from his right. A large, dark shape bent to enter the office and glanced around. Its music box continued to wind and play its janky notes.

Jeremy held his breath and sat as still as he possibly could.

The longer it stood in front of him, the more details Jeremy could make out. A yawning hole gaped in the animatronic’s torso. Several metal ribs and electronic parts peeked out through the hole, and Jeremy swore he could see the music box’s gears turning just underneath the tattered t-shirt logo. The animatronic’s jaw had locked into a permanent grin and hung impossibly open, to the point where its chin brushed its collarbone. It swayed from side to side when the animatronic turned its head. Two blank sockets stood where eyes should have been, ringed by crows’ feet rips in the rotting polymer. Jeremy quickly averted his gaze.

His lungs ached, and breath attempted to force itself out of his mouth. A dull throb at the joining of his neck and head started. Pain flared in his esophagus, and his eyes watered. Jeremy pinched his nose shut and fought the growing urge to breathe.

A hand reached out and made contact with the back wall. Inch by inch it dragged down, squealing over the tile, and approached Jeremy’s head. His mounting fear made the urge to breathe even worse, and Jeremy knew he had mere seconds left before his brain forced him to stop fighting and save itself. With a great _creeeeeeeaaaaaak_ and a few small bursts of sparks, the animatronic bent over until they were almost face to face. Those empty eyes bore into his. A huff of stinking air blew over his face. Mechanical parts in an exposed part of the animatronic’s neck worked, and the music box changed into static. Its hand dragged down more until it hit the back of Jeremy’s chair. It tilted its head to the left. Its jaw sagged unnaturally and swung with the motion. A lock of faded hair fell over its empty eye and poked into the socket.

Jeremy now held both hands over his mouth. It felt like he was being stabbed in the back of his head with an icepick, and his chest burned with an almost drowning sensation. In mere moments, he would have to breathe, whether he wanted to or not. Tears ran down his face and threaded through his fingers.

Then, wonder of wonders, the animatronic jerked back and ran into the darkness.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep!_

Jeremy fell to all fours and coughed. Relief was immediate, and he spent a moment laying on the ground and breathing. The main generator turned on, and Jeremy pulled himself back to his feet. So much sweat had pooled near his lower back and ass it almost felt like he had pissed himself. His legs shook so much he could barely stand, and a migraine threatened to take over his brain. Using the wall as a prop, he guided himself outside and into the parking lot. He spent a moment hunched over in the driver’s seat. Then he switched the car on and slowly drove off into the night.


	9. Minigame #4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even more interlude.

_Thursday. Seven fifty-nine pm._

_The low sounds of sobs broke through the silence and startled Geoff out of his rest. He straightened and looked around. Jack stood at his side, still idle. The left spot was empty. Unusually for the time, the arcade was empty of people. Geoff stepped off stage and wandered into the arcade._

_He walked down the hall and stopped near the restaurant’s entrance. A strip of yellow tape blocked his way. Beyond that, a white outline surrounded several brown stains on the floor._

_He averted his gaze._

_Another sob echoed from down the hall. Geoff turned away and walked down the opposite hall. All the lights were out. The employees were gone. Even the main and backup generators had been turned off. The only sound in the entire place were those low, racking sobs._

_Geoff passed by the storage closet, where the cries were loudest. He hesitated by the door for a few moments. His fingers brushed the tarnished brass once, twice, three times before grasping it and opening the door._

_Most of the boxes stood by the door and left the back wall entirely exposed. Paint cans, wooden boards and plaster tins littered the floor. A distinct white line marked where the new paint and plaster had been applied. Half the wall still had exposed wooden boards, though those looked fresh. Little pink fiberglass shreds and bits of wire poked out from in between the slats._

_He moved closer and tapped the boards with a finger._

_A great cry erupted from within the wall. Something pounded against the boards, and a pair of bright blue eyes appeared between the slats. Dust fell from the ceiling. Several of the paint cans rattled. Five fingers scrabbled to get into the gap, but failed. Red light spilled from the eyes and transfixed Geoff._

_“I will make them **pay** for what they did to me.”_

_……….._


	10. Night 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy has made it to the fifth night. If he makes it to Saturday, all of his troubles will be over.
> 
> At least, he thinks they'll be over.

Jeremy couldn’t sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, those empty black sockets stared back at him. The stench of iron and oil stuck in his nose and clogged the back of his throat. Goosebumps popped up all over his skin at the thought of those long, skeleton-thin metal fingers trailing down the wall and stopping barely an inch from his temple. Whenever his apartment fell silent, dim static replayed in his mind and startled him from whatever doze he had managed to attain.

Eventually, Jeremy gave up and rose from bed around ten o’clock. He brewed coffee and munched on dry cereal while checking his messages. There were a couple from his mom, one from Matt, and a few junk messages from Facebook. The latter he deleted, and the former he elected to read after his shower. Matt’s message was brief and to the point.

**Axialhole: How’s your first week at the new job been?** (Sent 9:48 am)

For a moment, Jeremy’s brain blanked. What on Earth could he _possibly_ say about his job? His feelings were crystal fucking clear; he _hated_ it, oh God he fucking hated it. Being put in mortal danger by hyper-intelligent muderbots tended to do that. However, judging by the purge of the Internet, as well as the mile-high stack of NDAs he’d been forced to sign, the owners of the arcade weren’t too keen on its secrets getting out. At the very least, Jeremy didn’t want to slip and potentially put anyone in danger. After a good deal of thought, he typed out his reply.

JDoolz: Not fond of it. (Sent 10:19 am)

**Axialhole: Nightshift sucks, huh? :D** (Sent 10:20 am)

JDoolz: That, and corporate is fucking insane. Rather work at a freaking BK, tbh. (Sent 10:20 am)

**Axialhole: I hear that’s pretty normal.** (Sent 10:21 am) **  
what are you gonna do then?** (Sent 10:21 am)

Jeremy bit his lip. _That_ he still wasn’t entirely sure. He wanted to leave, yes, but a growing part of him yearned to reveal the truth about the Achievement Hunter Arcade and Pizzeria. If people really _had_ disappeared, and the company had paid a metric shitton to have that covered up…well, he couldn’t just sit around and do _nothing._

JDoolz: Dunno. Gonna turn in my two weeks tomorrow and start jobhunting again, and go from there. (Sent 10:24 am)

**Axialhole: that bad, huh? Here’s me thinking this was, like, your fucking dream job. You loved AH when you were a kid.** (Sent 10:25 am)

Jeremy sighed.

JDoolz: Guess that whole “never meet your heroes” thing is a saying for a reason. (Sent 10:26 am)

**Axialhole: your mom’s gonna be disappointed. You working there gave her a major fucking nostalgia kick, apparently. It’s all her and my mom have been talking about lately.** (Sent 10:27 am)

That gave Jeremy pause for thought. He hadn’t even considered that his mom might know more about AH than he did. Hell, she actually _remembered_ AH’s heyday, and had probably been fully aware of the growing controversy surrounding it. Probably still had a good deal of pictures, too.

JDoolz: I’ve been meaning to talk to her about that. Even if my job sucks, I do still kinda love the place, and I wanna remember why I used to like it. (Sent 10:29 am)

**Axialhole: Be careful what you wish for. :P** (Sent 10:30 am)

JDoolz: Yeah, yeah. Talk to you later, dick. (Sent 10:30 am)

Jeremy tabbed over to his mom’s new messages. Immediately, he was greeted by a ‘Picture Loading’ message with the subtitle ‘Blast from the Past!’ Jeremy rolled his eyes and smiled. He did adore his mother, even if she was a little overenthusiastic at the best of times.

The picture loaded, and Jeremy’s smile fell away.

A much younger Jeremy sat on the shoulder of an eerily familiar animatronic. Twenty years of decay grew even starker the more he looked at the picture. There, the crystal blue eyes still sat in their sockets, the polymer skin had not rotted, the bearded jaw had not yet dislocated, and the only signs of any sort of wear or tear were the crows’ feet lining the corners of his eyes. He beamed up at the child on his shoulder and held him carefully in place with one gigantic, flesh-covered hand.

That, right there, was the Ryan in Jeremy’s memory, the Ryan he remembered being the most popular out of all the other animatronics. The Ryan that had been unexpectedly recalled shortly after this picture had been taken. The Ryan that had apparently attacked someone after one of the shows, and sent the entire arcade into its downward spiral. And the Ryan that had eventually become the horrifying specter haunting the arcade at night. That Jeremy could not reconcile, no matter how much he thought about it.

While he stared at the picture, another message from his mother appeared in his feed.

**Mom: Are you up yet Jeremy? It’s not good for you to sleep this late.** (Sent 10:44 am)

He quickly typed out a reply.

JDoolz: I’m up, I’m up. (Sent 10:44 am)

**Mom: Good.** (Sent 10:45 am)  
**Did you get the picture I sent you? I thought you’d like it, considering where you just started working. :)** (Sent 10:45 am)

JDoolz: Yeah. (Sent 10:46 am)  
You know what happened to Ryan? I hear he got recalled. (Sent 10:46 am)

His mother took quite a long time to respond to that message. While he waited he cleared up all his dishes, gathered up his business casual clothes, and prepared for his shower. Finally, after thirteen minutes of waiting, his mother finally texted him back.

**Mom: I don’t really know, dear. We had moved away by the time all that happened, plus I was busy with your sister.** (Sent 10:57 am)  
**I did hear some rumors, of course, but I don’t know how accurate they are.** (Sent 10:57 am)  
**I do seem to remember the most popular one being about an assault, but I don’t know if it’s true.** (Sent 10:58 am)  
**You did remind me about something in this picture, though. Matt’s mother told me you’d lost your cake and started crying, and Ryan was the one who found you and calmed you down. He stayed with you until Matt’s mother could find you.** (Sent 11:00 am)  
**He was good like that, you know. I don’t know how they managed to program him, but he was wonderful with children. I think that’s why he was so popular all around.** (Sent 11:00 am)  
**That was the thing, though. When she found you two, she wanted to take you home. She told me he got strange after that.** (Sent 11:00 am)

JDoolz: Strange how? (Sent 11:01 am)

**Mom: She told me he grew cold and distant, like she had said something terrible. He didn’t want to give you back. She had to take you out of his arms, and when she did, she said he…glared at her. And she had never been so scared in all her life. I couldn’t really believe it when I heard it.** (Sent 11:03 am)

JDoolz: that’s crazy. Did she tell anyone else? (Sent 11:04 am)

**Mom: She didn’t tell me.** (Sent 11:05 am)  
**we moved shortly after that anyway, so I didn’t worry about it too much.** (Sent 11:05 am)

Jeremy didn’t know what to do with this information. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember what had happened that day at AH. Nothing had ever seemed off about the animatronics back then. At least, not while Ryan had still been there. Then again, from the sound of it, the bots didn’t mind kids so much, but adults they were much less inclined to be nice. All in all, it was much less information than he would have liked.

JDoolz: weird. (Sent 11:06 am)  
D’you have anymore pictures? (Sent 11:06 am)

**Mom: Of course! :D** (Sent 11:07 am) **  
I haven’t digitized all of them, but I can send you what I have when I get to my computer.** (Sent 11:07 am)

JDoolz: thanks mom. (Sent 11:07)  
Gotta go now. Adult stuff (Sent 11:07)

**Mom: okay** (Sent 11:08 am) **  
have a nice day at work!** (Sent 11:08 am)

Jeremy groaned and shut off his phone.

Oh, how he wished.

* * *

 

Time flew by all too quickly, and soon enough Jeremy headed to work. There was a lot of traffic tonight, and he barely managed to squeak in before midnight. His ass hit the chair, he switched on the monitor, and his watch struck midnight.

Immediately he checked the main stage. Nobody had moved. He checked the Lads’ Corner. The curtains were still closed. Still, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

The phone rang.

Jeremy stared down at it and frowned. “Aren’t you dead? How are you leaving another message?”

It rang two more times and clicked over to the tape. An earsplitting shriek ripped through the tranquil restaurant. The speaker crackled with its intensity. Jeremy nearly fell out of his chair and had to catch himself on the doorjambs. The screaming cut and warbling static took its place. Voices swam in and out of focus, pitching and warping with the noise, and at one point, he swore he could make out the work _revenge._ A low, stuttery laugh played out bit by bit, and the entire thing cut out with a loud SNAP!

Jeremy blinked and tried to remember how to breathe.

What a start to the fucking night.

He went back to the cameras and scanned through them again. Michael and Jack had already left the main stage, and Gavin peered out from his curtain. Geoff had yet to move. Jeremy flipped through the cams one by one until he found the other two. Michael stood in the arcade, and it sounded like Jack was in the kitchen.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t see Ryan anywhere.

Well. Time to come up with a strategy. What he had done last night seemed to work, so he’d just try to do that again. Just check on Gavin and Geoff, watch the doors for Michael and Jack, and shut the fucking doors in case of Ryan. He clapped his hands and rolled his shoulders. Okay. He was gonna do this, and tomorrow he was going to hand in his two weeks, and then he was going to drink this fucking week away.

With this new plan in mind, he leaned forward and checked the right door. Nothing. He checked the left door. Nothing. He pulled up the camera and checked the Lads’ Corner. Gavin had gone. He shut the left door and checked on the main stage. Everyone was gone. Gavin collided with the closed door and crashed to the ground with a loud squeal.

“Come off it! Why’s this door always closed?!”

“To keep you out,” said Jeremy under his breath.

“But I want _in,_ Jeremy!”

Jeremy jumped back, and the animatronic pounded on the door. After a few seconds, he snarled and retreated back into the restaurant. He opened the door and checked the light. Michael grinned down at him.

“Nope, nope, nope, you stay out there!” He slammed the door back down and scooched back. “God, were you two fucking in the hallway or something?”

A loud snort erupted from the animatronic. He, too, beat on the door for several seconds before stomping down the hall. Not long after that, a loud screech echoed in the distance. Jeremy let out a breath and checked the light again. Nobody there now. He opened the door and checked the other. Jack waved to him behind the glass.

“Fuck me, calm _down_ you fucking assholes!”

He shut the other door. The animatronic sighed and knocked on the glass. In the distance, Jeremy heard Geoff’s high-pitched cackling. It already sounded way too close for comfort. He glanced through the cameras. Two white dots peeked out at him from the men’s restroom. Gavin stood in the middle of the Lads’ corner, unobscured by any sort of curtain. Michael’s dim form stood amidst the arcade cabinets. Jack was still outside of his office. No sign of Ryan anywhere.

A third flip of the light showed that Jack had left, so Jeremy opened the door and checked the cameras again. Gavin had already left the Lads’ Corner. He groaned and shut the left door again, and checked the cam to watch Gavin’s approach.

The bot ran down the hall like usual, but halfway through he skidded to a halt. Even in the grainy, almost stop-motion-esque security camera feed, Jeremy watched his expression turn almost…horrified. Moments later, the bot had turned one hundred eighty degrees and fled back the way he came. Jeremy only had a few seconds to wonder what the fuck had happened when something blocked the camera’s view. Part of a nose, a bit of moldering cheek, and one hollow socket. Then static swarmed the camera. That horrible, juddering laugh looped over and over and over, growing louder by the second.

Jeremy swallowed and glanced at the closed door. Ryan had approached from the left side before, and these animatronics appeared to follow the same pattern every night. Therefore, he was safe, right? Sure, the static and laughter had yet to die, but he would be confronted by the door and leave like the others.

Right?

A new laugh belted out, loud enough to make Jeremy jump.

And it had come from the _right_ door.

He hit the right doorlight, and, for the first time, saw the animatronic that had been plaguing him most persistently these past few nights. In the light, Ryan somehow managed to look so much worse than he had in the dark. Jeremy could now see the hollow metal sockets where Ryan’s blue eyes had once been, and several crooked metal teeth glinted in the depths of his gaping maw. Wires dangled out of his torn pantleg. Several of these still wrapped around the bare endoskeleton femur. Both spidery hands splayed over the window, and the animatronic’s splintering forehead pressed against the glass.

Jeremy let out a high pitched shriek and struck the button for the door as hard as he possibly could. It slammed shut quickly, but he swore to sweet Jesus he saw… _something_ retract from the frame in that time. A low murmur of static bubbled in the hall, and the fingers on the window tap-tap-tapped. His flesh squealed unpleasantly when Ryan tilted his head like an inquisitive puppy.

“You really don’t like me anymore, do you?”

Jeremy shook his head.

Ryan’s head withdrew from the window.

“You’ll talk to them, but not to me…hmm. Your silence…bothers me, Jeremy.” Both hands clenched into wiry fists. “It bothers me.” The fists dragged down the window with a horrible nails-on-chalkboard sound. “I am still here. And I don’t much like the feeling of being forgotten, you know.”

A low mechanical snarl trilled through the hallway. The fists fell away from the glass.

“I _will_ find you.”

Then came the familiar thump CLANG of Ryan’s mismatched feet tromping back down the hallway. Jeremy waited until the noise fade into nothingness and checked the light, and only then did he open the door. He checked the cams. Save for Geoff, every single animatronic had returned to their starting position. Somehow Ryan still didn’t appear on the cameras.

Jeremy let out a breath and wiped sweat away from his brow. A quick check of his systems showed he was already at 75% power. He couldn’t bear to check his watch, but a large part of him feared he was still in the early hours of the night.

_‘It’s okay. All I have to do is make it to tomorrow, and I’m gonna go to the office and tell Trevor to go fuck himself! Just make it to tomorrow, Jeremy. Just make it to tomorrow.’_

He tugged his hat down over his eyes and went to work. The previous strategy had served him just fine so far, so he checked the right and left doors again. Nothing. He scanned the cams for Geoff, and spotted him lurking in the East Hallway. Gavin’s curtains were drawn.

God, he wished he knew where Ryan fucked off to.

Jeremy shook the thought away and checked the lights again. Michael stood in the left doorway with his arms folded. His grin had long since gone.

“You wanna stop, Jeremy? You _know_ you’re fucking dead.”

He slammed the door down and checked the other light. Nobody there yet. Two fists pounded on the door. Michael let out a frustrated yell and ran back down the hallway. He checked the cameras. Gavin peeked out from behind his curtain. Geoff now stood in the East Hall corner. Jeremy closed the right door and opened the left. In the distance, something clanged loudly, and a high-pitched sob echoed down the halls. He swallowed and checked both lights. Nothing on the left or right. He checked the cams. Gavin hadn’t moved. Nor had Geoff.

Then the feeds all went down again, and the laughter rumbled through the speakers.

“Jesus fucking _Christ,_ cut it _out,_ Ryan!”

Jeremy slapped his hand over his mouth. Too late. The maddened tap CLANG tap CLANG stampeded toward him, static building into a mechanical howl. He slammed both doors shut and squeezed his eyes closed. This time, the static approached from the left, and the awful sound of metal clashing on metal rang through the restaurant. Static buzzed and roiled around him, and for one mad second, Jeremy thought the animatronic had managed to get into the room.

“I’m beginning to lose my patience with you.”

He stomped back down the hallway. Jeremy counted down from ten before opening both doors again. He checked the lights. Nothing there. He checked the cameras. Gavin hadn’t moved. Geoff was gone.

He still couldn’t bear to check his watch.

High-pitched laughter rang throughout the arcade, much, much louder now, and when Jeremy checked the cams, Geoff stood at the end of the right hall and stared up at the camera. He reached over and shut the right door. His power dived below 50% almost immediately. He spent the next few minutes checking on Geoff while checking the other light at the same time. Nobody showed up by the time Geoff finally fucked off, thankfully. Though his situation was still about as far from good as it could get.

Not two seconds later, both Michael and Jack were at his doors, and the power bled away by the second while they stood and pounded at the metal. Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut and waited until the silence returned. He checked both lights to verify they were gone, and even then he waited several seconds to open the doors. Immediately upon checking the cams he saw Gavin making a run for him, so he let out a groan and shut the left door again.

“Just one minute,” he pleaded, “I just need one minute to…to fucking _breathe,_ dammit!”

Naturally, after that one little prayer, his camera feeds all shot to static, and that damned laugh rattled the speakers. He slammed both doors down and sat back to wait. This time, the approach was much slower, and the only sign of the animatronic outside were the slight sounds of metal on metal. White noise churned and chawed until a long sigh hummed through the right door.

“Do you really think you’re going to win this, Jeremy?” That spindly hand appeared on the window again. “I can play this game too, you know. I can stay here all night long. Wait until your power has drained to its very last dregs. That should be long, _long_ before six am. And what would you do then? Run? Hide? Beg for mercy?” A great burst of sparks erupted from Ryan, and his speech garbled and gibbered for several words. “- _never_ a-accept it!”

Jeremy shook to his core. He swallowed once, and finally managed, oh so timidly, to speak.

“You’re…uh…you’re not…you’re not _really_ going to stay there all night…are you?”

Ryan laughed. Long and loud and uncontrollable.

“He speaks at last! Just for that, I think…I think…I _will_ stay. Just for a little while. Just until I can hold you in my arms one…last…time.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t want that.”

A chuckle now, softer than the mad cackling. The hand caressed the glass with a drawn out _squeeeeeeeeeak._ “Hey, hey, it’s all right. It’s okay to be scared. That’s what makes you brave, you know. Facing your fears.”

Jeremy looked over and opened the left door. If his hunch was still correct, none of the other animatronics would attack while Ryan stood at the door. Maybe, if he could keep Ryan here all night, he could make it to six am and leave. He checked his power. 35%.

Hoo boy.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked. He meant it mostly as a way to stall for time.

Static burbled from Ryan again, and chattered for a good few minutes. Then he growled.

“You’re asking the wrong person, my dearest Jeremy. Those secrets don’t belong to me, and so, I can’t give them to you.” A brief pause. “If I knew myself…oh, if I knew why…” Ryan broke off into an almost mournful mechanical yammering.

“The hell is going on, then?”

No response.

“Uh…Ryan?”

A brief murmur of static. The fingers on the window tapped.

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing. Everything. I remember. Oh, I remember. I don’t _want_ to remember. But I remember nonetheless.” That same yammering chittered briefly. “You should _never_ have come here.”

“On that, we agree.”

“Your power’s getting low, Jeremy.”

He glanced down at it. About 20% now. “Yeah. It is.”

“Your time is running out.”

He swallowed. “Is it? Hadn’t noticed.”

“Deluding yourself won’t make this any easier, Jeremy.”

“But I can try, right?”

“Try all you want. It doesn’t matter in the end.”

Ryan’s voice faded into static. His hand withdrew from the window, and faint scrabbly noises squeaked all over the door. Jeremy’s power dropped below 15%. He grit his teeth and settled in his chair. He just had to hold on until the morning. Just until six am. Then he’d be okay. Then he’d walk away from his job and do something normal for once. Free of animatronics and death and all that other shit.

On a whim, he checked the other light, and nearly jumped out of his skin. Michael was standing there, a distinctly unimpressed look on his face. Jeremy reached out and thumbed the door button.

It didn’t work.

He hit it again.

The mechanism buzzed angrily at him. It still didn’t work.

“Oh…oh no. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ ” Jeremy pummeled the button in the vain hope that it would remember its purpose and actually close the door.

From his right came a low chuckle.

“See you on the other side, Jeremy.”

And Ryan moved back into the dark depths.

“… _shit._ ” Jeremy slapped his palm down on the button. It still didn’t work. He tried the light button as well. It also didn’t work.

The distant sounds of static and laughter built up in the distance. From the doorway came an indistinct chattering. A pale hand wrapped around the doorjamb, and two pinpricks of white light winked through the darkness. Jeremy recoiled and fumbled around his office. He scattered a small pile of crumpled paper to the floor, upended the little plastic minifigure sitting on top the desk, and finally found something cold and leathery on the floor. His fingers wrapped around it, and he twisted around to see.

It was the hammer he’d brought to work several days ago. So much had happened between now and then that he had forgotten all about it. God, he was stupid. Immediately upon this discovery, Jeremy whipped around and slammed the hammer down on Michael’s fingers. The animatronic wailed and recoiled. Jeremy had a small moment of triumph.

Then the power cut.

Darkness encompassed him fully, and Jeremy found himself completely blind. He let out a little ‘oh’ and flumped down in his chair. He held the hammer up in front of him and huddled behind it.

Laughter flared up in the distance, followed closely by the familiar notes of Ryan’s music box. Eyes lit up all around him. When he looked closer, he could see how the light illuminated the flesh around their eyes, and even managed to catch a glimpse of Ryan. The eyes gathered around the doors and winked at him while the music box ground out its discordant melody.

The last few notes leaked out of the box, and all four pairs of eyes blinked out, leaving Jeremy in darkness. He pressed his face into his knees and focused on breathing. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes and soaked into his slacks.

Something thumped.

A harsh, almost breathing sound rasped over his head.

Ryan’s deep chuckle tickled the hairs on the back of his neck.

“It’s time to go, Jeremy.”

A freezing hand curled around his bicep.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep-beep!_

Jeremy cracked open an eye and finally looked down at his watch.

Six am. At long fucking last.

He rolled out of his chair and spent a moment pressing his face against the tile. His fingers trailed over the chilly flesh of his bicep. The imprint of a metal hand still remained on his skin, raised and slowly growing warm. He shivered and pushed himself to his feet.

Even though the night was warm, Jeremy still turned on the heat when he got in his car, and spent a moment huddled by the vents. He rubbed his arm, trying to erase the marks, and only succeeded in making his flesh itch. Even after the vents had been blasting hot air for a good ten minutes, he still felt chilled to the bone, and shivered in his seat all the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get this guy up. The past few weeks have been pretty crazy, and I've barely had time to myself. Things have started to calm down now, so hopefully I can get back to writing.


	11. Minigame #5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, interlude, oh, interlude....

_Friday. Seven forty-five pm._

_Over the general commotion of the weekend crowd, Ryan heard the tell-tale sounds of a child wailing. He stepped behind Michael and Gavin, and let their frantic performance mask his quiet retreat from the stage. He edged through the crowd with ease and headed for the source of the crying._

_A little boy stood beside one of the Pac-Man machines and howled. His scoop of chocolate ice cream had melted into a puddle on the tile, and the poor mite clutched the empty cone to his chest. Ryan hummed deep in his chest and let his music box tinkle to life. He reached out and pulled the child into his arms. He sank into his chest and sniffled into his shirt while Ryan lifted him up and carried him over to the kitchen counter. He reached over the busy cashier and snagged one of the cones off the display rack. He presented the cone to the boy and smiled at the look on his face. Ryan gently set him back down on the floor, and the happy babe wandered off, newly covered in ice cream and sprinkles._

_Not one minute later, another wail echoed through the arcade, this time near the exit. Ryan strode away and pushed through the crowd. An easy enough task, as even the tallest adults in the place barely came up to the middle of his chest. He reached the end of the arcade and walked into the entrance hall._

_Two people stood silhouetted by the windows. A man had wrapped his hand around a girl’s upper arm. His fingers dug so deep into her flesh that white marks spread slowly over her skin. While Ryan continued his approach, he lifted his other hand and struck her across the face._

_It happened_

_In_

_An instant._

_Like_

_The flip_

_Of_

_A_

_Switch._

_Ryan pinned the man to the wall by the neck. He ignored the fists and fingers clawing at his flesh. He pulled back and slammed him into the wall. And again. And again. And again. And again. Again and again and again and again and again, until blood, bone and brain spattered over the wall and dripped down to the tile. Upon release, the corpse sunk to the ground like a sack of potatoes._

_He let out a gust of air and wiped his hands on his pants. He tilted his head to gaze into those dead, empty eyes, and, with a snarl, lifted his foot to crush them into paste._

_A tug on his pantleg gave him pause. Ryan turned and swept the girl up into his arms. He pressed her into his chest and mumbled under his breath while several pairs of feet pounded down the hallway._

_“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. He can’t hurt you anymore.”_

_The employees surrounded the scene quickly, obscuring the body from the curious public’s roving eye. One of them whipped something off his belt and jabbed it into Ryan’s neck before he could retaliate-_

_ERROR SYSTEM OVERLOAD ERROR SYSTEM OVEROLAD ERROR SYSTEM OVERLOAD ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR_

_……….._


	12. Secret Night 6, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy's had enough of being jerked around by robots and shitty enterprises, so he takes action into his own hands.
> 
> But he still has to survive another night in order for the truth to be seen.

The shower ran out of hot water around seven thirty, but Jeremy stayed there until ten in the morning nonetheless. He sat and stared at the water swirling down the drain, watched the goosebumps build and ebb on his skin as the water alternated from hot to cold and back to warm and back to cold over and over.

As the hours had passed, the raised marks on his arm had faded, but the redness had turned into black and blue bruising, perfectly shaped like a skeletal hand. The memory of that encounter had temporarily pressed itself into his skin, but with every pass of the water over the marks, it ingrained itself more and more into his brain. He had brushed up against Death’s flanks tonight, and he wasn’t about to forget it any time soon.

It took him another hour to find the strength to drag himself out of the shower and pull on some clothes. He curled up in bed and let his head rest against his thighs for another hour, just squeezing his eyes closed and fighting the urge to drift back to the early morning. He turned on his television, played the loudest music in his library, even tried some yoga videos he found online. Nothing worked. Every time he came even the slightest bit close to calming down, he imagined cold metal hands dragging him into the darkness, and he nearly collapsed into tears yet again.

Shortly thereafter, Jeremy suddenly remembered that today was, in fact, Saturday, and Trevor would be back from his trip. This was his chance to hand in his notice and run the fuck away from the AH arcade. That, more than anything else he had tried, put some light back in his heart and drove him to get up, put some real clothes on, and run out to his car.

He treated himself to a Starbucks breakfast before heading back to the arcade. Hesitation still gripped his guts upon seeing the building, but the warm sunlight spilling down from on high gave Jeremy enough courage to step through the threshold.

Out of admittedly morbid curiosity, he stepped into the main arcade room and looked over the stage. It was twelve o’ five, and the animatronic show was in full swing. Unlike in the nighttime hours, the movements of the main three were shaky and distinctly robotic. Their hands shook with every wave, their shoulders jerked with every nod of their head, and their mouths flapped unconvincingly. The three kids in the audience looked bored as hell, and while Jeremy watched, one of them wandered towards the food counter.

God, whatever had happened here really had changed _everything._ AH’s shows used to be intense as all getout, and almost violent at times. The three Gents would be on stage calmly chatting about the evening’s news, and then the Lads would run in from their Corner and leap on stage, ready to hype the crowd. All the papers at the time had ranted and raved about how lifelike the bots were during their shows, and several claimed that they were merely people in elaborate makeup and costumes. Whatever the case, it had all fallen apart once Ryan had been recalled.

“Jeremy? What are you doing here?”

Jeremy jumped and whirled around. His defensive posture immediately subsided when he saw Trevor. His manager had a clipboard in his hands and his hair stuck up in odd places, like he’d been running his hands through it after it had been gelled in place. Jeremy managed to put his hands in his pockets and relax his shoulders.

“Hey, Trevor! I was, uh, just looking for you, actually.”

“This isn’t about the whole ‘wanting to quit’ thing, is it?”

“Uh, yeah, it is. I’m, uh, not enjoying it as much as I’d like. Too much…excitement.”

Trevor’s brow furrowed. “Excitement? At that time of the night?”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, I know about the ani-”

Trevor’s clipboard clattered to the ground. His right hand clamped fully over Jeremy’s mouth while his left index finger whipped up to his lips.

“ _Shh!_ Not another. Fucking. _Word._ Jeremy.” He glanced over at the kids, who remained halfheartedly fixated upon the janky stage performance. “Now, you listen right here. I have no idea to what you might be referring to, but what I _do_ know is that there are certain… _topics_ …you don’t talk about in front of customers. You want to lose your job? Well, you’re on the fast track to doing it, buddy.”

Jeremy put out his tongue, and Trevor recoiled immediately. “Really? In that case…” He opened his mouth to start talking again, and Trevor sighed.

“Fine. If you’ll follow me, we can get started on your exit paperwork.”

Trevor stooped to collect his clipboard, turned on his heel and marched back toward his office. Jeremy followed after and was soon sat in the very same chair where he agreed to participate in this madness. Trevor shuffled the papers on his clipboard into his outbox, bent down and pulled open one of the drawers on his desk.

“Fuck, I just _know_ I had it here somewhere…where the fuck was it…”

While Trevor was preoccupied with digging through his files, Jeremy glanced over the top of one of the piles of paperwork on his desk. It had an official looking gold monogrammed logo of a cawing rooster’s head as its header, and the message that followed was brief and to the point.

_Trevor,_

_The arcade has been operating at a loss for the past five years now. You’re running out of options, and I’m running out of patience. If you can’t figure out a way to turn your fortunes around, you’ll hear from Burns again, and believe you me, you do **not** want that to happen._

_With all due respect,_

_Joel Heyman  
CFO, RT Entertainment, Inc._

 

Man, no wonder Trevor was hectic this morning. With a thinly veiled threat like _that_ sitting on his plate, it was a wonder he wasn’t a nervous wreck right now. Jeremy filed that information away for later and cast around for other stuff. Unfortunately, Trevor had apparently found what he was looking for and had shut his drawer. Jeremy quickly pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen.

“Okay, found it.” Trevor placed the papers in front of Jeremy and flipped them around. After another few seconds, he placed a pen on top and pushed them closer to Jeremy. “Read through these and sign off on them. Then you’ll be home free within the week.”

A flutter of hope gripped Jeremy’s heart, and he eagerly glanced over the first sheet. A more nervous tingling set about his spine when he saw the words ‘nondisclosure agreement’ printed in bold letters.

“ _Another_ one of these? I thought I’d already signed enough of ‘em at the start!”

Trevor sighed again. “ _Those_ were promising you wouldn’t talk about the job while you were working here. _This_ one is promising that, as long as you are alive, you will _not_ talk about the things you’ve seen and done here.”

Well. That could be problematic. Still, Jeremy glanced through it and signed on the line. He put that paper on the bottom and balked yet again.

“You’re fucking kidding me…”

“If you want out of here, you’ll need to sign that one too,” said Trevor.

“But…but…a Release of Liability form?”

“Yep.”

Jeremy almost wanted to cry. If he signed this, all of the torture he had endured over the past few days would go unpunished, and the arcade-and RTE, he guessed-would get away scot free. No fees, no lawsuits, no bankruptcy. Just free to continue hiding their robots behind paperwork and disappearing nightguards.

After a few minutes of staring down at it, Jeremy finally bit the bullet and signed his name.

One by one, he went through the other papers, and slowly signed away any chance he had at retribution, monetary or otherwise. By the time he finally signed off on his official announcement of resignation, Jeremy wanted to cry.

“Okay, you’re all set Jeremy.” Trevor collected the papers and placed them in his outbox. “Take care, and we’ll see you tonight.”

A wave of cold washed over him, and he suddenly needed to puke. “You, uh, what was that?”

Trevor raised an eyebrow. “You’re working tonight, Jeremy. And Sunday night, too.”

Jeremy’s mouth fell open. “But…but I…what? I didn’t sign up for that!”

“You know, one of these days, you actually need to _read_ the contract you sign off on.” Trevor reached into his desk and pulled out a printed schedule. “As it is, _this_ is what you agreed to.”

Jeremy put his hands over his face and peered through his fingers at the calendar. Sure enough, for two weeks he worked every single night from twelve to six, for a total of forty-two hours.

“Oh…oh fuck me….”

“What? Nothing happens on the night shift. You’ll be fine! Just last for two more weeks, and you’ll be home free. Oh! I almost forgot.” Trevor slid an envelope towards Jeremy. “Here’s your first paycheck. Congrats!”

Jeremy mutely picked it up and stood. He should have felt…well, anything really, but he felt nothing. Nothing but cold.

“Well, if that’s everything, you’re free to go now, Jeremy. Have a lovely rest of your day, and we’ll see you tonight!”

Jeremy mumbled something under his breath, turned on his heel, and toddled out of the arcade. He clutched the check to his chest like a favorite toy, and the moment he was safe in his car, he let out a whimper, and felt hot tears streak down his cheeks.

* * *

 

Jeremy had never hated another person more than he did Trevor at the moment when he stepped into the arcade to start his sixth shift. Somehow, he had entirely forgotten that the arcade’s busiest times would be the weekend, and thus they would still need a nightguard on Saturday and Sunday. Plus he had never even seen his schedule, and very much regretted not reading his contract. God, he wished Trevor hadn’t taken him by surprise with that. He would have very much liked to tell him to shove all his paperwork up his skinny little ass.

However, this time, he wasn’t going in unprepared. Jeremy had set up his phone in his shirt pocket and had started recording the moment he stepped in through the doors. With luck, he would survive this night and live to blow the whistle on this goddamn shebang, all the consequences be damned. Even if they forced him to declare the company not responsible, evidence of homicidal robots prowling the restaurant had to count for _something,_ right?

Right?

It had to, otherwise Jeremy was royally fucking his future for nothing.

Jeremy moved slowly through the restaurant and arrived at his little office. He brushed his fingers over the woven fabric of his chair before plunking himself down and readying himself for the night. The minutes ticked away, and Jeremy pondered editing out the first section of video later on down the line. Might make the whistleblowing thing more palatable.

Midnight struck, and the phone rang almost on cue. Jeremy eyed it cautiously. At this point, the phone man had died two days beforehand, and the call last night had been…something else, so…what could it be tonight? It rang two more times before clicking over to voicemail.

Static swarmed through the office like an invisible swarm of bees. It warbled and murmured before fading down into a low hum. A familiar chuckle crackled over the loudspeaker, and Jeremy’s entire body went cold.

_“Well, well, well, look who came back for another night! Did you really miss us that much? Or are you just scared to defy your superiors? I wonder…”_

Another laugh.

_“In any case, you’re back now, and I…well, I have to admit, I’m surprised…and delighted. So I have a proposition for you. If you can make it to six am tonight, you get your answers…and you get your freedom. You get what you came for, and much, much more.”_

Despite knowing better, despite knowing this could be a trap, Jeremy leaned closer. His heart quickened in his chest, and he almost felt lightheaded.

_“Oh, yes, you’ll never have to see any of us again, and you’ll live like a king for the rest of your natural life. But…like in life itself…there are serious consequences to consider…”_

A loud _snap_ rang through the restaurant, and the power went out with all the suddenness of a gunshot. Jeremy blinked and sank down into his chair. That laugh sounded again, but clearer, and from right outside his left doorway.

“Here’s what you have to do, my dear. I’ve…taken measures…to make sure your last night here…is entirely within my hands. No-one else will bother the two of us tonight. It’s just you, and me, and one empty restaurant between us. And, as you can see…you’re without your little toys. Without your precious shields to hide behind…can you really make it, I wonder…”

Jeremy let out a loud squeak and sank down into his chair.

“But…I’m nothing if not civil…so I’ll give you…let’s say…an hour’s head start. One hour to do…whatever you feel is necessary. Then…let’s you and I get dangerous, hmm?”

Jeremy’s lip quivered for a moment. He gasped and gaped, and finally managed to ask, “Why the hell are you doing this?!”

The animatronic let out a long, deep sigh. The stench of rust washed over Jeremy.

“If you’re still asking that, you really haven’t learned anything. I’m…almost disappointed. But…again…if you survive…all will be told. I’ll…give you this one for free, though. I’m tired…I’m tired of being shunted away and forgotten. I’m tired of being trapped in this damn place. I’m tired of being stuck in this moldering body. I’m…just…plain… _tired._ ”

A fist struck the glass and shattered it. Jeremy shrieked and covered himself with his arms. Glass rained down upon him, and he felt the tears open all over his clothing, felt the warm gush of blood from the multiple tiny cuts.

“You’ve got one hour, Jeremy. One hour…and then things get _interesting._ ”

Tap CLANG tap CLANG tap CLANG tap CLANG.

Ryan’s laughter faded into the distance, and Jeremy sat alone in the darkness. He wordlessly checked over his body, and his hands came back wet and warm. Thankfully, he was not seriously injured, but the cuts still throbbed and burned, and he knew it was a bad start to an even worse night.

After wasting a few minutes curled up in his chair, Jeremy unfolded his legs and tottered out into the hallway. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned the light on. It lit up his immediate area, but beyond about two feet, the light became too weak to pierce the darkness. Plus, with the camera still recording, his battery already had a sizable chunk taken out of it.

Eventually, his battery would die, and then he’d truly be helpless.

Fear gripped his heart, and Jeremy took off for the exit. He’d caught Ryan speaking over the phone, talking to him through the door, and breaking the glass. Surely that was enough. He’d leave this fucking nightmare, find the first journalist willing to parse this madness, and figure it out from there.

He skidded around the corner and sprinted toward the exit. His fingers grasped the cold metal handles and he yanked back as hard as he could. The doors opened an inch or two, and the asphalty-gasoline smell of the parking lot washed over him. Freedom beckoned him, tantalized him with how _close_ it was, teased him with every passing _vrrrrm_ of cars on the highway…

Then the doors jerked to a halt, and Jeremy nearly fell backward from the sudden stop. He jiggled the handles, and felt something tug back. He looked down and nearly painted the glass with his lunch. Apparently, he’d once again forgotten his hammer at work, only this time, it had been twisted to form an impromptu lock around the handles. The claw and hammer curled around the right, while the naked handle spiraled around the left. He tugged at it a few more times, to no avail. In desperation, he lifted a bloodied fist to smash the glass and escape that way.

His fist stopped an inch before it hit the glass. Static buzzed angrily in his ear, and cold metal fingers slowly pulled his arms away from the door and held them up over his head. Jeremy tilted his head upwards and immediately locked eyes with Ryan. The metal teeth worked slowly within his maw, and every now and then a tiny part of his face would twitch erratically.

“Somehow I knew you were going to do this and yet…I’m disappointed in you.” The fingers tightened around his wrists, and Ryan stepped slowly back into the restaurant. “But that’s what you _always_ do, isn’t it? You can’t handle the _fucking_ truth, _can_ you?!” The sharp tips of his fingers dug into Jeremy’s wrists and sent beads of blood running down his arms. “Little coward. On the brink of everything, and you choose to run away…my disappointment is never-ending.”

One hand moved to the back of Jeremy’s head and dug into his scalp.

“ _This_ is your _last_ chance. Try this little stunt again, and I assure you, you will not last a _minute_ before I find you. And I. Will. _Not._ Be _nearly_ as charitable the second time.”

Jeremy was tossed to the ground like a sack of sugar. He collided with the tiles and smacked his forehead. A burst of black washed over his vision, and for a moment, he thought he was going to puke. Static howled overhead, and rust groaned and creaked.

“One a.m., Jeremy. I’ll be waiting to see what you do next.”

The static slowly faded into nothingness, and the off-kilter tap CLANG of Ryan’s mismatched feet wandered back into the restaurant. Jeremy waited a good few minutes before pushing himself upright and massaging his forehead with the heels of his hands. If he actually ended up surviving this, he was gonna have one _hell_ of a concussion later. Or now. Whenever concussions became a thing. He decided to abort that wandering train of thought and brought himself back to the now.

So…leaving was out of the question. That left only two options; dying and actually trying to figure out how the hell he would survive. Ryan had disabled his main method of defense. This exit had been sealed off, and there was no doubt in his mind that Ryan would catch him if he tried to leave through the back. As far as he knew, there were no weapons of any kind in the arcade, and none of the animatronics would be able to provide a distraction for him this time around.

All he could do, then, was try to find a place to hide and wait it out until dawn.

Jeremy grit his teeth and took another few steps into the darkness.

Then an idea struck him, and stopped him in his tracks. The security office might not an actual door with an actual lock…but _Trevor’s_ probably did. Plus, if he truly wanted to blow the lid off this story, might as well record some hard evidence as well. He had no idea whether or not it was the best solution, but at the moment, it was the best option he had.

With new resolve, Jeremy tiptoed down the hall and edged toward Trevor's office. Thankfully, the dumbass hadn't even locked the door, and Jeremy stepped into his new sanctuary with relative ease. He made sure to lock and bolt the door behind him, and, for good measure, spent a good five minutes dragging one of the filing cabinets over and blocking it off. Would it hold back an animatronic like Ryan? Jeremy honestly had no idea.

But it did make him feel a hell of a lot better.

The moment the door was properly blockaded, Jeremy turned around and glanced over Trevor's desk. It still had nearly a foot of papers piled everywhere, but here and there a few scraps of paper had changed places, and another inch of papers occupied the already overflowing outbox. Jeremy scanned over the refuse on top of the pile, but nothing of interest really jumped out at him.

The only clear space on the desk was the aged pleather letter blotter, and this still had one opened letter resting on it. Jeremy picked it up and wormed out the letter. It bore the same golden rooster logo as the one he'd seen earlier, though the signature and the addresser were different.

 

_Mr. Collins,_

_I am writing this letter in regards to the requests you have sent to our offices. I understand your position, but let me be frank with you. Your store has been operating at a loss for five fiscal years now, and though you have only been on board for two of those five years, the responsibility still rests on your shoulders. The diagnostics you request are very serious indeed, and cost up to tens of thousands of dollars. Were you one of our best performing business locations, Rooster Teeth Entertainment would, of course, have no problem footing the bill, but I'm afraid I can't authorize such an expensive venture if we were to get nothing in return._

_As for your requests to redo the wiring and insulation, well, the same problem applies. Also, you are coming up on your summer months, Mr. Collins, and I'm sure I don't have to remind you that **that** is your busiest time of the year, and missing this window to turn your fortunes around and instead spending them completely inoperable would serve as the bullet to put you and what little business remains into the grave, as it were. I don't care what your reasoning is, I can't condone the loss of business so easily._

_One final thing, Mr. Collins. If I **ever** see or hear you use the name of **that** animatronic again...well, you'll have more to worry about than just losing your job, let me tell you._

_I hope this clears things up for you._

_Yours most respectfully,_

_Matthew Hullum_  
_COO, RT Entertainment, Inc_

Well.

Well, well, well.

Jeremy read the letter again. So Trevor _wasn't_ as ignorant as he liked to pretend, plus he was in a lot more trouble than he let on. That would definitely explain his attitude from earlier today.  And the whole "using the name of certain animatronics" thing and the deal with the walls...

Did Trevor know about Ryan?

Jeremy put the letter back in its envelope and set it back on the desk. Hopefully Trevor wouldn't notice it had been tampered with, otherwise he would be in deep, deep shit. He scanned through the other papers again, but they were still worthless.

He stepped away from the desk and scanned over the walls. Most of the stuff there was kitschy, the sort of stuff an employer would buy for pennies on the dollar from IKEA. Two things almost immediately caught Jeremy's eye. One was Trevor's fucking _aerospace engineering_ degree, and the other was another AH Crew poster hanging in a frame on the wall. Unlike the one in the office, this one looked almost brand new, with only a few specs of dust decorating the glass and frame. Geoff and Jack still stood in their respective places, but where Michael glowered in the other poster, Ryan beamed down at the viewer. Like with the picture his mother had sent him, Jeremy found himself fascinated by the stark difference between the past and present Ryan. How had it all changed? How had this once friendly and kind mascot turned into that ghoulish specter prowling the halls?

His phone beeped up at him. Jeremy checked the time. Twelve thirty-five. Only twenty-five minutes left, and then Ryan would come for him.

Just to be safe, Jeremy dragged the other filing cabinet in front of the door, too.

With nothing else to do, and an awful lot of time on his hands, he started pawing through the heaps of paper again. Invoices, printed emails, several unimportant letters from other members of RTE, drafted advertisements for the arcade, and other meaningless junk. He did, however, find one letter near the bottom of the pile that almost immediately caught his attention. It too bore the golden rooster logo, and its message was even shorter than Joel’s had been.

 

_Mr. Collins,_

_Fax me a copy of the documents you found. Then destroy them._

_Do **NOT** keep them._

_Sincerely,_

_Michael Burns  
CEO, RT Entertainment, Inc_

It was vague as hell, and in the end, didn’t say much, but it was still _something._ Whatever Trevor found, it was incriminating enough that the goddamned _CEO_ himself had written to him about it. He wished he could find those documents now, but the likelihood of them still being whole and in this office were little to none. Jeremy supposed they might be in the filing cabinets, but both were locked by physical keys, and he had no doubt that both were currently at home with Trevor. They’d just have to continue blocking the door, then.

Jeremy did his best to reorganize the piles into some semblance of what they’d looked like when he’d walked in, and prayed to God Trevor wouldn’t notice the stuff that had been shifted around. Burns’s letter had been stuffed into another pile of paper, Joel’s still rested on top of the nearest stack, and Matt’s, of course, lay on the blotter. He scanned it over several times, and told himself that was the best he could do, given the circumstances.

Then, he prepared himself.

Jeremy grabbed the one thing he could ostensibly use as a weapon-this being a dagger-like letter opener on Trevor’s desk-and huddled in the little space between Trevor’s swivel chair and the cheap pulped backboard of the desk. He only had a few minutes left, and he didn’t want to waste any time. Thankfully the room was already dark, so Jeremy focused instead on keeping his breath quiet and even.

Even with his intent focus, his heart still thundered in his chest.

He checked his phone one last time.

Twelve fifty-nine.

He watched the seconds tick away.

In the distance, something clunked heavily on the ground.

Ten more seconds.

Jeremy couldn’t help the sudden rasp of breath in his throat.

Seven.

He shut the screen off and shoved the phone in his pocket.

Four.

He screwed his eyes tightly shut and buried his face in his legs.

One am.

Static burst to life in the distance and rolled throughout the building.

Time was up, and he was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm not dead!
> 
> In all seriousness, I'm now working a forty hour a week retail job, which makes it rather difficult for me to upload with any sort of regularity. I promise I won't stop working on this, or any other fic of mine, but the updates will be a lot more sporadic.
> 
> Thank you for your support, and keep an eye out for part 2!


	13. Secret Night 6, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is on the hunt. Can Jeremy survive?

Drip. Drip. Drip.

For the life of him, Jeremy couldn’t figure out what could possibly be leaking, or how it could be so damn loud, but it was driving him nuts. Somewhat because of the repetitive sound, but mostly because it was the only thing he could hear in the entire restaurant. Just the drip, drip, drip, drip.

He’d stopped the recording for now in an effort to conserve battery. The camera also kept his phone screen on, and even the littlest bit of dim light made him wary. Like an exposed animal, waiting for its throat to be ripped out. His nerves were shot enough as it was, hiding beneath this desk like a child, waiting to see if Ryan would find him.

Time spiraled out in front of him with every passing heartbeat, swallowed whole by silent darkness. One a.m. felt like hours ago, but he knew it couldn’t have been that long. Even so, he barely wanted to look at his watch. Hell, he’d taken the thing off a while ago and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. Anything to make the passage of time a little more bearable.

God did he need to piss, though.

A low murmur of static bounced throughout the empty building. Jeremy managed to keep his breathing under control by telling himself it was dim and distant, and thus Ryan was far away from where he was. What didn’t help was then imagining the animatronic’s growing frustration at the lack of Jeremy in the building, and what this might mean if (not when, please not when) Ryan found him.

A creak echoed through the building. Static burbled, low, and distant enough to be almost unnoticeable.

Jeremy hunkered down and buried his face in his knees. He did his best to muffle his breath in his slacks, and ignored the rough pounding of his heart.

The static faded away, and another creak sounded, much, much further from Jeremy.

He let out a breath and relaxed.

_'I'm tired of being what you want me to be, Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface, I don't know what you're expecting of me, Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes-'_

Jeremy nearly jumped out of his skin. Like a fucking dumbass idiot, he had not turned his ringer off, on the assumption that, like the previous nights, nobody would ever call him in the early hours of the morning. He fumbled getting it out of his pocket and ended up dropping it on the floor. It bounced off the floor with a loud thunk, skittered into a corner, and came to a rest face down. It then vibrated in place and rattled over the tile.

Tap CLANG tap CLANG tap CLANG tap CLANG tap CLANG tap CLANG.

Static shrilled to life, louder than before, closer than before.

"Fuck fuck fuck _fuck!"_

He scrambled over to his phone and saw Matt's idiot face grinning up at him from the screen. Only a sleepless night owl like Matt could sentence him to death like this, huh? He ended the call and shut the ringer off, but the damage had already been done.

Static grumbled all around him now, and the telltale tap of metal fingers clicked over the door.

"Oh, Jeremy, Jeremy, you could get in serious trouble, hiding in there..."

A sharp squeal of metal on glass.

"They don't like it when you paw through their secrets...they get...upset."

He laughed, long and low and hiccupping.

"Hopefully you won't be around to regret it."

Glass shattered, and soon after, five metal fingers scrabbled over the filing cabinet.

Jeremy shut his eyes and resisted the urge to cry.

_SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!_

Before Jeremy could even begin to figure out what the hell that noise could be, a loud CRASH reverberated through the room, followed by the sound of a hundred papers fluttering to the ground. Little metal pings tinkled all over the room, and the door hit the ground with a BANG!

Jeremy didn't dare peek out from his hiding spot. He crammed himself as far back into the desk as it was possible for him to go and held his breath.

Static swam over him like a wave of flies, buzzing and scrabbling and scratching. One metal foot clanged on the filing cabinet. A hiss of releasing pressure.

"Hmm...where could you be?"

Something thudded against the wall and dragged over the pictures.

"Where are you hiding?"

A frame crashed to the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces. One shard of glass landed an inch from Jeremy's foot.

"I know you're in here."

A shoe stepped into Jeremy's field of vision, followed by a rusted metal foot. Ryan listed slightly in place, wobbling on massively uneven feet0, then turned in place.

"You're here, I know you're here, what am I missing?"

Another sharp hiss of static.

A hand slammed down on the desk and scattered the papers sitting there.

"Ah...I see. I see."

He began to move again, and Jeremy knew he had to act now or die horribly. He rolled out from under the desk and sprinted for the open door. The animatronic screeched and swiped for him. His fingers caught in Jeremy's shirt, and for a moment, he was yanked backwards. He threw himself forward, and heard the fibers rip apart. Jeremy leaped over the toppled filing cabinets and ran into the hall. That same horrible electronic screech followed him out.

Jeremy ran straight into the arcade and ducked under one of the little side tables. Not exactly the best place to hide, but his options had run out by this point.

It took Ryan only half a minute to catch up to him. His static chattered nearby, and Jeremy thought he could see his head bob awkwardly between the rows of games.

"I heard you come in here. Do you really think you can keep this up until six? Believe me, you can't."

Jeremy slunk alongside the cabinets. Each step he took was more careful than the last, for one wrong move would do him in proper. Eventually, he saw that one of the cabinets had an open back and crawled inside. It was quite the squeeze, but he eventually managed to cram himself fully within. Sure, he’d probably ruined any chance of that machine turning on ever again, but at least he’d survive the night.

More static growled around him. Ryan’s off-kilter footsteps stomped up and down the aisles. Creaks and pops and groans kept ringing out from his endoskeleton, and once, Jeremy saw a bright flash of white sparks.

Sweat trickled down the small of Jeremy’s back. Some jagged piece of electronic whatnot jabbed him in between the shoulder blades, and he was painfully aware of how close the tips of his toes were to the edge of the casing. He tucked himself in a little more. His breath crushed his sides against the cabinet and forced the air back out of him.

He needed a better plan than just sitting around hiding like an idiot, but he was drawing up a blank. Most if not all of his options had been blocked off by the animatronic wandering around the arcade. A distraction might work, but for the life of him, Jeremy had no idea what on Earth could distract Ryan from that whole catching and killing him thing.

A loud _creeeeeeaaaaaak_ echoed through the empty arcade, followed swiftly by a loud _CRASH_ and the tinkling of glass on tile. Static ebbed and swelled, a frustrated hiss rattling in the mess, and a fragment of wood skittered over the tile and landed by Jeremy’s shoe. He swallowed and pulled himself out of the cabinet. More wooden splinters rattled over the floor and a loud mechanical screech ripped through the night.

Jeremy stumbled in place upon exiting the cabinet, but managed to hold himself upright and darted down the hall. He scanned around for anything resembling a good hiding place or a distraction. None presented themselves to him. He rounded another corner and froze.

He stood at the foot of the main stage, in full view of the three animatronics stood there. For a moment he couldn't even _think._ Adrenaline flooded his system, and his heart seized in his chest. It took him a little longer to realize they weren't moving. A few seconds after that, he noticed that their eyes were dull and dark. Whatever Ryan had done, it had frozen them solid.

Then Jeremy had an idea. A stupid, horrible, _dangerous_ idea.

He ducked behind a nearby table and wiggled his watch off his wrist. For the last time he glanced down at it and saw the time. Three thirty am.

_'Goddamn I hope I fucking survive this.'_

Jeremy peeked out from his hiding place, closed an eye, took aim, and threw the watch as hard as he could. It clocked Michael right in the middle of his forehead and bounced off with a muffled metallic _donk!_ The animatronic shuddered like an electric shock had driven through him. His eyes grew wide, and both white lights flared into sharp life.

"Who threw that? Who the _fuck_ threw that?!"

He glanced around and growled in his throat. Jeremy purposefully pulled himself back a little too slowly. Michael's eyes found him before he disappeared back into his spot.

"You motherFUCKER!"

He leaped off the stage and landed with a colossal _BANG!_ Jeremy let out a squeak and sprinted back down the aisle. Feet pounded behind him, and he heard Michael yelling incoherently.

"Why the fuck are you throwing things, you stupid little bitch?! Are you _that_ fucking brain-dead?"

Jeremy slid around a corner and ducked behind a cabinet, just in time to avoid one of Michael's fists. Glass smashed behind him. Michael let out an angry roar. Jeremy danced over the shards of wood littering the hallway and hopped down the next aisle. Juding by the heavy thumps behind him, Michael was hot on his heels.

Then the static washed over both of them, and the feet behind Jeremy immediately stopped.

“Oh shit oh shit oh _shit!_ I fucking forgot!”

Jeremy turned in time to see Michael turn in place and dash back toward the stage. A skeletal hand emerged from the darkness and caught him by the nape. He yelled and squirmed in place. Holes yawned in his shirt and synthetic skin, but he did not tear free.

“You’re not who I wanted.”

Ryan’s head emerged from the shadows and leered down at the quivering animatronic.

"I haven't seen you in so long...do you even remember me?"

His other hand curled around Michael's bicep, and the animatronic's heels left the floor.

"Let's you and I reconnect tonight, hm?"

Michael howled and twisted. His free fist darted into Ryan's ribcage and struck his interior. Sparks shot out from every joint on his body, and the ancient animatronic shrilled and yammered. He threw Michael into the nearby cabinets. With a mighty _CRASH,_ his body knocked four over and shattered them. Broken bits of motherboard, glass and wood scattered all over the floor. Before he could even move, Ryan descended upon him. The animatronic's wail turned more and more electronic with every slash across his skin, and sparks flew like blood through the night.

Jeremy decided he'd watched for long enough, and if he wasn't careful, he'd get caught in the crossfire. He slunk through the arcade as quietly as he possibly could, heart thumping at the sounds of crashing and electronic screeching. When he glanced back, he couldn't see the battling robots.

Scratch that.

He couldn't see _any_ of the robots.

Geoff and Jack had vanished off the main stage. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Still not there. Hopefully they'd just moved away from the fight currently destroying the arcade, but Jeremy still felt chills run down his spine.

Something whipped by his head and crashed against the wall. He yelped and ran towards the door in the far corner. A horrible, squalling wail followed after him, warbled for a few seconds, then cut short with all the suddenness of a gunshot. He lowered his head and pushed the door open.

A rancid smell hit him in the face like a ton of bricks. Jeremy gagged and put his sleeve over his mouth. God, it was _awful._ Like sour milk and rancid fruit all mixed into one horrible smoothie. It seemed to emanate from the very walls of the room, heavy and oppressive. Tears welled in Jeremy's eyes, but he forced himself to move further inward.

That was when he noticed the heads.

He squeaked and threw himself backwards against the wall. Heads lined every wire shelving unit, heads grinned at him from the little island in the center of the room, heads lay scattered over the floor, heads hung from hooks near the ceiling. Some of them had eyes. Most of were missing chunks of flesh or teeth or hair. Jeremy edged himself along the wall and bumped up against a heavy cardboard box. He glanced down and saw a dozen eyes staring blindly back at him.

This was literally the worst room to be hiding in.

He moved around the box and sat down in the corner. Then, as an afterthought, he pulled the box in front of him and hunkered down behind it. Hopefully Ryan wouldn't even _think_ of coming in here. This had to be the robotic equivalent of someone walking into fucking Saw's house or something.

That being said, he had no idea what Ryan's feelings on the matter were, a fact not much helped by the memory of Michael's electronic screeches. He swallowed and went to check his watch. The pale and sweaty strip of flesh winked back up at him.

_'Fuck me, why did I think that was a good idea?!'_

He pulled his phone out instead. Three forty-five, and his battery was down to 55%.

Balls.

Jeremy tucked his phone away and huddled down into the corner.

Christ this night would never end.

At least he didn't need to pee anymore.

* * *

 

Four a.m. had crawled on by when the stomping returned. Jeremy's back hurt like hell, and he felt like his entire body was covered in a solid centimeter of grime and dust. Eyes stared at him no matter where he put his head, and when he closed his eyes, a thousand eyeless faces grinned back at him. Little pains shot through his kneecaps at odd intervals. His feet had gone entirely numb.

He didn't dare move.

Something scraped along a wall outside. A low growl of static rolled like thunder through the empty arcade.

"You're annoyingly persistent at finding ratholes to hide in, little Jeremy."

More growls rippled, closer now.

"Smart, though...too smart."

A harsh sound of metal on metal.

"I _will_ find you again. I always have, and I always will."

Mechanical clicks and whirrs sounded, moving further away now.

Jeremy continued to hold his breath until the footsteps faded into silence. His entire chest ached with exhaustion, like he had run a thousand miles in five minutes. If he made it out of this place alive, he was going to sleep for an entire day.

Heavy emphasis on 'if.'

A sudden BOOM echoed over the building and shook it to its foundations. Jeremy listened closely and heard the rough patter of raindrops on the shitty metal roof. Great. Just what he needed. More noise. Though, if God could do him a solid and smite Ryan with some lightning, it might not be so bad.

Thunder cracked again, louder than last time. All the eyes trembled in their box, clinking softly against one another. Jeremy pushed himself further into the corner and hunkered down as far as he could go. Which wasn't all that far.

Fuck, why did it have to smell so bad in here?! Jeremy thought he could have adjusted to it by now, but it just kept getting worse and worse. Goddammit, had something _died_ in here or-

Jeremy remembered the call from two nights ago, and decided he really didn't need to know the answer to that question, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that question.

He fought back the sudden urge to barf his guts out.

Something tapped on the wall over his head. Jeremy ignored it. It tapped again. He still ignored it. The tapping grew more insistent. More tapping joined in, until a mini cacophony of taps rattled over the wall. Jeremy plugged his ears. His elbow bumped against the wall.

The tapping stopped.

A low purr of static hummed from the other side.

Before Jeremy could even process what that meant, the door flew open with a BANG and hit the wall hard. Little pieces of plaster shot out from the wall, leaving an almost perfect impression of the knob in the aging material. A dark figure stooped to enter the room and looked around.

Even in the dim non-light of the room, Ryan still looked awful. Apparently Michael had gone down fighting, for the animatronic's left arm lacked several pieces of wire support and now twitched and shook at odd intervals. More skin and cloth had ripped off his frame, leaving even more endoskeleton exposed than before. His head looked largely untouched, though Jeremy was almost certain his jaw hung even lower than it had been previously. Frizzy wires hung out of the hole in his torso, and his music box forlornly plunked away, each note more wavery and broken than the last.

"I know this place...why did you come here?"

The animatronic stopped in the middle of the room and wavered. He turned his head left and right, back and forth, moving slow and steadily. His twitchy left hand came to rest on the island. The jittery fingers tapped out an uneven rhythm and jerked out in startled, decidedly unlifelike motions.

"You have proven...very difficult to catch. I'm almost impressed. Using that...using _him..._ as a distraction...that was quite a nasty trick. Shame he won't be able to talk about it. I’m sure he'd complain for years to come."

His arm swept all the heads off the table. They crashed onto the floor and scattered this way and that. One rolled to a halt at Jeremy's foot and lolled over to gaze up at him. With a jerk, he realized it was an exact copy of Michael's head. It had no eyes, and instead gaped lifelessly. Like Ryan's face. Too much like Ryan's face.

"They stopped caring years and years and _years_ ago, Jeremy. We're nothing to them. Nothing but empty little robots dancing on a stage. They treat us like we were just built for amusement. Like toys. Stupid, replaceable, worn out toys. Bit by bit stripped of freedom until we had nothing left but that. Dancing and singing on a stage. Even they think that's all they're good for anymore. And soon we won't even be good for that. Not even toys, after all. Scrap. Just parts."

Ryan turned in place. His empty black eyes stared at a place roughly three feet over Jeremy's head.

"You wouldn't understand. None of you fuckers do. You sit and stare and watch us and think nothing of it. Momentary distraction from life. That's what we are, right? You watch and count the minutes until you go home. Go back to your life. You don't for once stop and think about us. How we're left behind. Left in the dust. No lives to go back to. No lives at all. Just worn out stages and dusty closets."

He stepped toward Jeremy. His jaw wobbled back and forth.

"But it doesn't have to be like that. I won't _let_ it stay like that. I've been working. They'll stay with us forever and ever."

He reached out with grasping metal fingers.

"You'll stay with us, won't you?"

Jeremy had had enough. Enough of this fucking room, enough of this fucking job, enough of this fucking robot. Just. Enough. He kicked out with his foot and knocked over the entire box. Eyes spilled out across the floor like pool balls and rolled this way and that. Ryan's rubber soled foot caught one under the heel, and he toppled to the floor with a screech. Jeremy leaped to his feet and pulled the shelf behind him as hard as his aching muscles allowed. It groaned, creaked, and fell to the floor as well. The upper shelf caught the animatronic's midsection, while the various and sundry heads piled on top of him. Jeremy took his chance and sprinted out of the room.

The air outside was still musty, but it was at least better than the literal rank of death. Jeremy sprinted haphazardly down the hallway and went back down the hallway. His hiding options were running rather low, and Jeremy still had at least an hour left to survive. Either he could see if Gavin had left the Lads' Corner and risk death there, or he'd have to return to the literal place of nightmares – the closet in the hall. He weighed his options and knew what his only option had to be. Even if he fucking hated it.

This time, when Jeremy entered the dust-covered interior, he reached into his pocket and switched on his phone's flashlight. The LED shone with almost impudent brightness and blinded him for a split second. When he finally cleared his vision, he was greeted by the familiar sight of piles and piles of mildewed boxes. Several yellow-brown fliers had spilled all over the floor now from a split box on the bottom of a pile. Jeremy stepped carefully through these and made his way to the very back of the closet. More boxes were piled in front of the wall, but through the gaps Jeremy could just barely see a hole yawning through the wood studs.

Maybe he could hide there?

Okay, so it was a fucking terrible idea, but it was better than standing in the hallway with a thumb up his ass. Jeremy tucked his phone into his shirt pocket and stepped onto one of the boxes on the bottom. It almost immediately sagged like a soufflé and split open along the edges. He ignored the rapid feeling of sinking and wormed his way into the hole in the wall. Ragged pieces of wood yanked at his various and sundry articles of clothing, and his already open wounds were further bothered by bits of metal and wood, but he made his way in without further incident.

It was a tight squeeze. Almost too tight in some places. His breath pushed his chest and back against the exposed studs. He could barely even twitch without some part of him bumping against the wood. His feet rested on something soft and slippery. He didn't even want to think about what it could be. Jeremy took a breath and bent down as low as the cramped space would allow. Just a little bit longer, and then he would be free.

Static buzzed somewhere nearby. Jeremy pressed his face against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut.

A warm wave of rust-scented air washed over his left ear. Static resolved into a low chuckle.

"Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy...this is the _worst_ place for you to hide in."

Jeremy howled and threw himself out of the wall. His body collided with the boxes and scattered them all over the floor. Behind him came the familiar sound of static and laughter, followed closely by two mismatched feet clomping down on the floor behind him. With the floor now covered in rotting cardboard and sheet of aging paper, Jeremy could barely get himself upright, let alone stand up and run away. His arms and legs scrabbled uselessly over the floor, and he ended up wriggling on his belly like a worthless slug.

A metal foot landed squarely in the middle of Jeremy's back and pinned him to the ground. Tears welled in his eyes. God, it wasn't fair! He was so fucking close! He didn't even care if he got answers any more, he just wanted to go home and never think about any of this shit ever again! He clawed uselessly at the floor and let out a few desperate gasps.

"Jeremy Dooley...who knew you were so resourceful?"

The foot pressed a little harder.

"You managed to elude me all night long...I'm...disappointed, in a way. I wanted you to stay with us. You'd fit in _so_ well. Better than any of the others do. But...somehow...you did it. You managed to avoid me all night long. Well done. Well done, indeed."

The foot lifted off Jeremy's back. Static curled around him, while Ryan's voice dimmed and faded.

"You'll get what you deserve, now. You'll get everything you wanted. Goodbye, Jeremy."

Then it was gone.

Jeremy lay on the floor a few minutes longer. Exhaustion sunk into every corner of his body, and he still couldn't quite believe what had happened. He wiggled his phone out of his pocket and turned the screen on.

Six oh two am.

He'd...he'd _made_ it.

He did it!

"Oh fuck yes. Oh _god_ yes. I'm alive! I did it!"

Jeremy laughed. Tears streamed down his face and even though he was tired and grimy, he felt like a million goddamned bucks. Through the cracked front window spilled the first rosy golden rays of the dawn sun. A thousand various and sundry glass fragments twinkled like diamonds in the light, and a warmth built up in Jeremy's chest. God, nothing had _ever_ looked so beautiful in his entire goddamned life. He dragged himself down the hallway and propped himself up on the wall. His breath was coming in rushed little squeaks, and his heart beat in his chest like a pair of hummingbird wings. Either he was coming down from a serious adrenaline high or he was about to die of a heart attack.

He stayed there for quite a long time, waiting for his breathing and heartbeat to return to normal. A small part of him still feared what might lie in the darkness, even though it was long past six am at this point. God, every single inch of his body hurt. Jeremy cracked an eye open and saw brownish-red spots blotched all over his clothing from his various and sundry wounds.

Well that was going to make his morning shower awkward.

A loud rattling broke through the silence and startled Jeremy out of his reverie.

“Oh _God_ no! I fucking survived, dammit!” He pushed himself further down the hallway and let out a whimper. “I survived, goddammit, I survived it.”

With a loud _CLANG_ the bent hammer came loose and wobbled to a stop by Jeremy’s foot. He blinked down at it and looked up. Trevor walked briskly through the hallway and came to a halt in front of him.

“Jeremy? What the fuck are you still doing here, man? And what the fuck was up with the door? I swear to God, if another thing’s broken around here, I’m gonna…I’m…”

Trevor’s briefcase dropped out of his hand and burst open on the tiles. His face drained of all color, and he wavered in place like a blade of grass in a breeze. Jeremy turned to see what had caught his attention so abruptly.

Oh. Right. The door to his office had been broken down, and papers now lay strewn across the hall, along with splinters of wood and plaster. Jeremy glanced back and saw the redness rapidly returning to Trevor’s cheeks.

“Uh…I, uh…I can explain, Trevor…”

Trevor raised a hand and pointed at the doors. “You. Get out. NOW.”

Jeremy scrambled to his feet and jogged outside.

“And don’t even _think_ about coming back because you, you, you’re fucking _fired!_ You _dick!_ And if I even _think_ I see you still lurking around, I will _personally_ make your life hell!”

He ran to his car and hopped in. Hopefully he’d be well on his way before Trevor discovered the arcade. Did he have his contact information? Jeremy hoped not.

Well, all in all, being fired was definitely the most desirable outcome. Hell, he wasn’t even particularly wounded. Jeremy had a bit of money tucked away, and now that he was out of a job, he was gonna take a few personal days, try to recover, and see if he could move on from this shit. Even a shitty ass retail job couldn’t be as bad as being chased by killer robots.

Whatever the case, Jeremy felt more hopeful now than he had for the past few weeks.

He could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter is late. Turns out working closing shifts drains inspiration like nothing else.
> 
> Still, only a brief epilogue left! I'll try to have that out by the end of the week.
> 
> See you soon! :)


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy has escaped and has plans to move on from all the shit he's been through. Unfortunately, life has other plans.

A sharp rap on the door jolted Jeremy out of a deep sleep. He blinked and groped around for his phone. Once found, he switched it on and checked the time. Four a.m. on a Monday…wow, he’d been out for a long, _long_ ass time. He rolled out of bed and groaned at the feeling of the dozens of tiny wounds all over his body stretching taut. God, that night had _sucked._ He shuffled over to the door and looked through the peephole.

Huh. Nobody there. He looked down. An envelope poked out from under the jamb. He stooped to pick it up and checked it over. No sender’s address or stamp. Just his own address. Weird. Really, really fucking weird. An uneasy trembling besieged his stomach. Who the fuck…?

He slit open the letter and unfolded it.

 

_Jeremy,_

_Please do not be afraid. I know what the appearance of this letter looks like, and my concealment of my identity cannot help matters much, but please understand that, for your safety and my own, I must remain anonymous. I hope you can trust me._

_Though you have left AH’s employment, know that you have glimpsed something bigger than you could ever imagine, and it cannot be undone by so simple an action. From now on, you are a part of this, and we must help each other overcome this evil._

_It will not be easy, and matters have already become irrevocably complicated. The police have been summoned to the Achievement Hunter Arcade and Pizzeria, and Mr. Collins has already pointed the blame for the damages done in your direction. Considering the condition he found you in and the sort of job you worked, it would not be difficult to fabricate your guilt. With the cameras disabled, there is no proof to suggest otherwise, and unfortunately, though your stories of the animatronics are very much true, they will not believe them. After all, in their eyes, a robot made to entertain children cannot bear ill will towards its human coworkers._

_But there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Though you may be imprisoned for quite some time, those in power will consider the matter over with, and will not attempt to deal with you personally. RT is already infamous for employees vanishing without any trace. To them, one more disappearance means nothing. It might not seem so right now, but you have been incredibly lucky. Let us hope your luck holds out over time._

_I can only ask you for your patience and perseverance. A long trial stands before you, but at the end is a chance for justice. Be strong, Jeremy._

_You will hear from me again._

_-A Friend_

 

Jeremy glanced over the letter one more time. A lot had just been dumped on his plate, not the least of which was someone knew who he was, where he lived, and where he had worked. Oh, and there was the whole ‘the police are coming to arrest you’ thing. That sucked.

Oh, but he still had the video he’d taken at his last shift would work as evidence, right? That _had_ to prove he didn’t do anything! Once they heard Ryan’s voice, that would end suspicion once and for all. Jeremy returned to his bed and pulled out his phone.

The pitch-black thumbnail for the video wasn’t exactly encouraging, but the sound was the most important part. Once they heard that fucking bastard, they’d bring the fucking _hammer_ down on this company! He tapped it and settled back to watch. The screen went black, a little puff of static burst from the speaker, and…

A white box popped up in front of the video.

**Failed to play video. An unknown error has occurred.**

No.

No no no no no no NO.

Jeremy tried again. The same error popped up. He ran to his computer and plugged his phone in. Attempting to play the file resulted in an error sound and entirely different message.

**Sorry, we couldn’t find your file. Is it possible it was moved, renamed or deleted?**

Oh shit.

Oh fucking shit.

The one thing standing in between him and the long arm of the law was corrupted, possibly beyond repair. If he couldn’t find a way to fix this, he was absolutely fucked. He disconnected his phone and brought up Matt’s contact. He was slightly more technologically minded than Jeremy, and he fucking _owed_ him for blowing his cover on Saturday.

It rang for a few seconds before Matt finally picked up.

“Bwuh…Jeremy? The fuck are you calling at four in the morning for?”

“I mean, you _did_ call me at fuckin’ two or three in the morning a couple days ago. Feel like I’m just getting even.”

“Are…are you okay?”

Jeremy sighed. “Not really. Lost my job.”

“Oh, uh, that’s, uh, too bad.”

“You don’t sound that sympathetic.”

“Listen. I’ve, uh, I’ve looked into AH and its parent company since you called me, and let’s just say I haven’t liked what I’ve found. All that shit that happened when we were kids was just the fucking tip of the iceberg.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Yeah, I _am_ telling you.”

“Hilarious. But that’s not why I’m calling you! I need you to tell me how to recover a corrupted file!”

Matt was quiet for a long, long time. “You’re telling me…you called me…at fucking four in the morning…to ask how to recover a fucking file.”

“It’s _important,_ Matt!”

“…Fine. Okay, what is it?”

“It’s, uh, a video I took on my phone. About the conditions at work. I wanted to blow the whistle on ‘em and get ‘em in trouble, but it’s not working.”

“Oh, okay. Have you tried using Recuva or anything?”

“It’s not that it’s deleted. I can access it on my phone, but I get this error message saying it couldn’t be displayed. Then I tried to pull it up on my computer but Windows couldn’t fucking find it. What the hell can I do?”

“Oooh, yeah, that could be bad. Try rebooting the app first, and if that doesn’t work, you’re pretty much fucked. I mean, you can’t afford to have it serviced right now, yeah?”

“C’mon, there’s gotta be _something_ I can do!”

“That’s about it, Jeremy. I mean, seriously, it sounds like the video got corrupted either while it was recording or immediately after you stopped it. Either way, there’s not much that can be done to recover it without asking a fucking expert. I’m sorry, Jeremy, but it’s fucked.”

Jeremy sagged in his office chair and felt tears well in his eyes.

“Jeremy? You still there?”

“Yeah. Uh…weird change of topic, but, uh, does your mom still have that storage unit?”

“The fuck you asking for?”

“Trust me, I’m gonna need it. I, uh, I’m not going to…I’m gonna have to…go away for a while, and…I just don’t want to lose my stuff, all right?”

“Jeremy, what the fuck is going on?”

“I…I wish I could tell you, man, but seriously, I’ve already fucked myself. I don’t want to fuck you, too.”

“Seriously, this isn’t funny. What the hell is going on?”

“Just…just ask her, okay? For me?”

“Fine, I’ll ask her, but you are _really_ freaking me out.”

“I know. Just…when I appear in the news later on, just know that I didn’t do it, okay?”

“Jesus fucking _Christ,_ Jeremy, what the hell? Did you fucking murder someone?!”

“What? No! No of course not! Just, uh, keep an eye out. I’ll try to talk to you soon.”

“Jeremy-”

“Bye Matt.”

Jeremy hung up before Matt could say anything else and plugged his phone back into the computer. Even though he already knew he was fucked, he tried one last time to play the video. The player launched, and the error message popped up again. This time it looked...different.

**It’s not nice to record someone without their permission, you know. >:D**

How.

In.

The.

FUCK?

Jeremy moused over the message and tried to close out of it. It blinked for a second and came back up.

**Did you really think it would be THAT easy? >:D**

He tried one more time to close it. It flickered again.

**I’ll see you around, Jeremy. >;D**

His computer screen blanked out completely. The by now familiar blue screen of death popped up with the also familiar ‘Your PC ran into a problem and needs to reboot message.’ What _wasn’t_ at all familiar was the reason given for shutting down.

**If you’d like to know more, you can search online for this error: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA >:D**

Well…shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Jeremy was well and truly fucked.

He sat back and wrapped his arms around himself. He thought back to what the letter had said. A long trial stood before him, huh? And there would be justice at the end of it? Just had to go to fucking _prison_ to get it. Sure. Yeah. Cool.

Somehow, he felt like there would be no justice for him.

He buried his face in his knees and took in a deep shuddering breath.

Why, oh, why, oh _why_ did he have to respond to that advertisement?

* * *

 

**FROM THE OFFICE OF ROOSTER TEETH ENTERTAINMENT, INCORPORATED**

 

Mr. Collins,

 

Once again you have proved you can’t handle running a business effectively. Not only has sensitive information and your remaining assets fallen into the hands of the police, but one of your most popular robots has been damaged almost beyond repair, not to mention you have lost your entire arcade library to sabotage and thousands of dollars in damage has been done to an already rundown building. You have been told, time and time again, that if you could not fix your location’s reputation and turn a profit, that our company would have to take immediate action, but this is far beyond the realm of acceptability. The arrest and pending trial of Mr. Dooley can only halt the inevitable for so long, and I’ve lost what remains of my patience.

Your employment with our company is terminated, effective immediately. Clean out whatever of your belongings remain in your office. Do not expect a final paycheck or a good reference from us. You can also expect to hear from Mr. Burns by the end of the week regarding matters of your silence.

You had better count your lucky stars that we don't pursue further action against you. If I have my way, you would hope and pray to be in Mr. Dooley's unfortunate shoes, for I would make you sorely regret all the time and money you have wasted with your pitiful reenactments.

 

I look forward to our eventual meeting, Mr. Collins. But you certainly shouldn't.

 

Matthew Hullum  
COO, RT Entertainment, Inc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. 
> 
> While I do have the sequel series in mind, it might be a while before anything pops up, so, y'know, keep an eye out, and I'll see you guys soon. :)


End file.
